Arraignment Day
by L3ftOfCent3r
Summary: Jefferson is stuck in a loop, reliving the same day over and over again, and he doesn't know why. (S01E17: Hat Trick)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is inspired by the movie "Groundhog Day" and my general longing to see Jefferson back on the show. Really miss that guy! :'(**

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Emma had fooled him! She had knocked him out with the telescope, efficiently dropping him to the floor. Jefferson came-to a moment later. He felt the absence of the gun at his back and heard the hushed voices down the hallway. A fury burned inside his chest that brought him to his feet. He placed the hat on his head and barreled down the hallway towards the two women.

"EMMA LOOK OUT!" Snow White screamed as Jefferson plowed into Emma, knocking her and the chair Snow White was tied-to to the floor.

The gun was knocked from Emma's grasp and she scrambled across the floor to retrieve it. Jefferson tried to pull her back by her legs, but Emma fought him. The two wrestled on the floor, Jefferson pulling her hair and Emma pulling-off the scarf from his neck. When Jefferson had finally had enough, he yanked Emma up off the floor and shoved her across the room, giving him time to grab the gun. The room went still as Emma saw the black barrel that was being pointed at her face. Jefferson smiled as he replaced his fallen hat on his head and craned his bare neck to expose his scar.

"Off with his head." Jefferson repeated the words that had once been his sentence as Emma gaped at the deep, jagged line that circled his neck.

Suddenly, something hard collided with Jefferson's shoulder, packing enough force to spin him around. Jefferson managed to catch a glimpse of Snow White before she kicked him backwards and sent him crashing through the window. He fell through the early morning air along with the window's shattered glass. Together, they took a long hard fall to the ground, and Jefferson's vision went black.

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* * *

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He awoke with a start as if Storybrooke's clock tower, chiming away in the distance, were inside his very room. Jefferson glanced at the clock on his night stand to see that it read 8:15. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear the haze from his night's sleep, and then he froze.

Confusion crossed his face as he glanced around his bedroom

"How did I—No." he answered his own thought, "She kicked me out of the window!"

Jefferson shot-up from his bed and raced to the room where he had kept Snow White. When he opened the door, he found that not only was the room in one piece, but the window was too. Jefferson ran to the room where Emma had hit him with the telescope only to find that the telescope was untouched. It was the same story in his living room: No tea. No map of Storybrooke spread across the piano. No sign that anyone had been in his home at all. Jefferson walked outside in search of the little yellow bug he had hidden from sight. Either he had hid it so well that he couldn't even find it, or it had never been on his property in the first place. Jefferson feared it was the latter.

Like a man who had lost everything and had nothing else to lose, he sauntered back inside his house, feeling completely numb. Jefferson dropped onto his couch and sank into the cushions. His eyebrows were lowered over his intense gaze as he stared off at nothing and his mouth was set in a perpetual pout. Jefferson had determined that there were only 3 possibilities for how the events he clearly remembered happening, didn't happen.

One. Magic.

Two. It was all a dream.

Or, the possibility he abhorred the most. Three. He was crazy.

Jefferson stood up and headed for his favorite telescope, the one that pointed to Grace. He caught sight of her just as she was heading off to school. She was wearing the same navy coat she always wore on cold mornings, but the pattern and color of her scarf always changed. On this day, she wore the same blue scarf he remembered seeing yesterday—the same "yesterday" he had shared with Snow White and Emma. Calculating the time to be about right, Jefferson strolled to the living room and put his eye to the lens of the telescope. There was Emma, the Sheriff of Storybrooke, arriving to work at precisely the same time and manner as "yesterday". Jefferson backed away from the telescope as if it were a guard armed to shoot him. He wandered back into the room where his other telescope sat. Jefferson continued this routine of going back and forth between his telescopes until he saw Snow White escape from her prison cell for the second time.

Jefferson was no soothsayer. It hadn't been a dream or some vision. _Magic_ was the only explanation. Once night had settled over Storybrooke, Jefferson set out to take a familiar stroll down a dark, winding road. When he heard the car approaching, he could hardly believe it. Why should the same day happen twice? As the little yellow bug sped around the corner, headed straight for him, Jefferson couldn't move. Maybe it was the deer-in-headlights effect. Or, maybe there was a part of him that didn't believe it was real. When the car slammed into him—causing him to fly several feet through the air to have his neck crack on a tree—it felt very real. And for the second time, in too short a time gap, Jefferson's vision went black.

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* * *

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The chiming of the clock tower awoke him and he sprung up in his bed, eyes wide and alert.

"I should be dead."

Jefferson ran a hand over his neck, inspecting it for any unusual angle that might be detrimental to his health. His scar was the only unusual thing about his neck. Jefferson sighed, but it wasn't with relief. Quickly, he slid out of bed and moved to his telescope just long enough to catch a peek of Grace's blue scarf. Jefferson made a face. He was reliving the same day over and over. Wasn't it bad enough that he had relived the same year for 28 years? Jefferson didn't know what he had done to cross Regina this time—well, at least, he didn't know how she had found out about his rescue of Snow White—but she was his first thought when it came to...repetitive curses.

Donning "yesterday's" attire, Jefferson set out to visit the Mayor. When he arrived at her home, he wasted no time on courtesies like knocking on the door. He strolled inside the foyer of the house, expecting to be met by her cruel smile as if this new curse was just her way of toying with him. Instead, he walked in on her unexpectedly.

"Jefferson!" she gasped as her heels clicked to a halt before him.

Her bag dangled from her arm and her keys from her hand as if he had caught her on her way out the door.

"What are you doing in my home?" she demanded, "I could have you locked up…or worse."

Jefferson winced at her threat. He knew all too well what "worse" meant.

"Don't play stupid," he told her as he measured her with scrutiny in his eyes, "You put another curse on me."

Regina examined him for a moment and then a laugh escaped her lips.

"Oh, Jefferson," she mocked as she stepped passed him, "It's good to know that solitary living hasn't broken your sense of humor."

Jefferson grabbed her arm.

"I'm being serious," he spoke through his teeth, "These past 2 mornings I have awoken to relive the same day."

Regina removed his hand from her arm.

"Then again," she said as she eyed him up and down, "Solitary living has apparently broken _something_."

Jefferson gave her a bored look.

"I wouldn't have come here if I felt I had another choice."

Regina looked at him carefully, and then walked towards the door.

"Fine. Perhaps you're right, Jefferson. Maybe someone has put a curse on you," Regina played along, "But don't point a finger at me. You're not worth _my_ time."

Regina held the door open and her chin high in that self-righteous way of hers.

"Goodbye, Jefferson."

His jaw clenched as he stared at her. She no more believed him than she held any blame for his new curse. Regina was not one to allow others credit for her handy work. There was some other magic at play here. Jefferson sighed in irritation and focused his eyes forward as he walked out of the Mayor's home. He didn't bother to look back at her, knowing that she would be of no help to him. In fact, there was only one other person who possessed magic and a reason to use it against him. Jefferson's eyebrows lowered as he pursed his lips.

"Emma."

When he arrived at the Storybrooke Sheriff Department, he heard a trio of familiar voices coming from the main detention area. The two most notable of the three belonged to Emma and Rumpelstiltskin. _Good._ Jefferson thought. He could cover all his bases as far as possessors of magic were concerned. As Jefferson stepped into the doorway, all eyes turned to him.

"Can I help you?" Emma asked as she looked at him with not the slightest bit of recognition.

Jefferson ignored her as he strolled into the room, catching a curious glance from Rumpelstilskin. Snow White was still in her cage and Jefferson wondered what ill-fate she had been met with the previous "yesterday" when he hadn't saved her from crossing the border.

"Don't bother using that key," he advised Snow White to which her mouth fell in shock.

Emma put herself between him and the bars Snow White was standing behind.

"What key—Excuse me, who are you? Do you have a problem?"

Jefferson laughed at that.

"Several." he replied as he met her gaze with a dark glare.

Rumpelstiltskin limped towards them on his cane.

"What's this about?"

"She cursed me," Jefferson replied as if it were commonplace, "Or if she didn't, _you_ did!"

Jefferson looked at his old business partner and noted the lack of amusement on his face.

"Careful, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin warned, "You're beginning to sound a bit...mad."

Jefferson's jaw clenched as he held the older man's gaze. For all that he pretended to be, Rumpelstiltskin was aware how that _word_ could affect him.

"_You_ didn't curse me, then."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a laugh at the absurdity of his statement.

"No, dearie, I didn't curse you."

"Well then, that only leaves _her_."

Jefferson looked into Emma's familiar hazel-green eyes and she scoffed at his accusation.

"Don't mind him, Ms. Swan," Rumpelstiltskin intervened, "He's known around town for being a little unbalanced."

"I'm not crazy. I've been reliving the same day since I met her," he declared as he pointed a finger at Emma, "She has magic. She doesn't believe it, but she does! I'll prove she does!"

In a true moment of insanity, Jefferson lunged forward towards Emma, planning to shake the magic out of her or something as equally unsuccessful. All he received for his efforts was a hard whack to the back of the head that knocked him unconscious.

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When Jefferson awoke in his bed to the chiming sounds of the clock tower, he realized that there was only one way to confront Emma about her magic—the same way he had confronted her the first time—alone...

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	2. Chapter 2

Emma's body slumped against his as he caught her in his arms, catching her before the effects of the tea could drop her to the floor. Her head lolled back to the crook of his neck and he could smell her already familiar scent. Her hair smelled of milk and honey and her jacket of the coffee that was always brewing at the Sheriff's department. Jefferson slipped his hands around her waist in preparation to drag her dizzy body to the couch, but he lingered. This second time around, having Emma in his arms, he realized just how long it had been since he had embraced another person. The weight and warmth of her body against his left him feeling almost as dizzy as the tea had made Emma. Jefferson sucked-in a breath and shook his head, trying to focus.  
"Let's get you to the couch," he said as he drug her towards it, helping her down onto the cushions, "There you go."  
Jefferson turned away then, and almost opened his mouth to tell her the same lie about "getting her some air", but he stopped. He turned his gaze to the half-lucid blonde woman lying on his couch. Even in her dizzy, tea-drunken state, Emma Swan looked up at him with suspicion in her eyes and Jefferson wondered why—if Emma had the power to make him relive this day over and over—_why_ would he ever get away with drugging her in the first place.  
"Who are you?" the words managed to fall from her lips before her tea cup fell to the floor and her head to the couch.  
Jefferson heaved a sigh and tilted his head as he looked at her peaceful, sleeping face. How could he be foolish enough to think she was capable of such a curse? Jefferson clenched his jaw in frustration and walked over to the tea cup she had dropped. As he bent down to pick it up, Emma sighed in her sleep and Jefferson glanced up to find that his face had come much too close to hers. His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment, and then suddenly, like a telescope to the head, an idea struck him.  
"A kiss can break a curse."  
Jefferson reached a hand towards her face and gently brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Emma murmured something unintelligible and Jefferson pulled away.  
"But not if you're in a drug induced stupor..."  
Jefferson scowled in spite of himself and stalked off to his work room to wear-out his frustrations by sharpening his scissors. He allowed the drugs time to take their course and for Emma to find her way to Snow White. When all the business of un-tying and then re-tying Snow White was over with, Jefferson managed to steal another moment alone with Emma. With his gun in one hand, he nudged her inside his work room with the other, and then closed the door behind them. Emma turned on him.  
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but if you hurt my friend, I swear I'll make you regret it."  
Jefferson gave a humorless laugh.  
"Emma," he practically purred as he strolled forward, causing her to step back, "I already do regret it."  
Emma stopped moving in spite of his slow pursuit towards her, allowing his proximity to stop just a breath away.  
"Then let us go," she reasoned as she looked up at him.  
Jefferson's gaze darted to her mouth and then back to the pair of hazel-green eyes that were becoming too familiar to him. He considered her words as he appreciated her face, finding it tempting to give-in to her plea. Jefferson heaved a sigh.  
"Fine," he agreed, "But only on one condition."  
Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
"What do you want?"  
Jefferson smiled. Even though he found her to be a bit distracting, he hadn't forgotten that he was stuck in a new curse and that Emma had magic. Magic was the key and Jefferson was willing to try anything to get it.  
"Tell me something," he began as he strolled passed her, walking around the table that sat in the center of the room, "Your son, Henry, believes you're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, right?"  
Emma's eyes shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her son, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her balled-up fists.  
"How do you—"  
"_That_ would make you a princess, right?" Jefferson interrupted.  
Emma rolled her eyes and her arms fell to her sides in exasperation.  
"Yeah. I guess. But—"  
"_And_…isn't it true that sometimes a princess can break a curse with her kiss?"  
Emma raised an eyebrow at his words.  
"What's your point?"  
Jefferson settled into his chair and propped his gun-holding hand on the table as he gave her a bored look.  
"My point is that I'm cursed and I can't afford to leave any stones unturned."  
Emma swallowed as she stared at him with cautious eyes.  
"You're insane."  
Jefferson sprung up from his chair and strode towards her, clenching his gun tightly in his hand as he invaded her space.  
"Maybe so," he agreed as he backed her up against the wall of hats, "But that's my _one _condition."  
"For me to kiss you?" Emma asked for clarification.  
Jefferson nodded as his eyes danced over her face.  
"And then you'll let us go?"  
"You have my word."  
Jefferson didn't miss the twitch of her brow that told him just how much she valued his word.  
"Okay." she agreed as she took in a jagged breath and stared up into his eyes.  
Jefferson sucked-in a breath of his own as a sudden case of nerves fluttered in the pit of his stomach, but he played it off. His free hand rose to her neck and he swallowed at the warmth he felt against his palm. Emma didn't move as she started blankly at him like a slave resigned to her fate. Jefferson frowned and pulled her face towards his, shutting his eyes as he kissed her gently. When Emma pressed her lips back against his, he nearly groaned. His brow furrowed at the sensation and his gun-holding arm encircled her waist, pulling her body flush against his. His pulse drummed loudly in his ears and he caressed her mouth with his own, forgetting everything as he kissed her. Emma's hands slid up his chest then, and before he knew what was happening, Emma shoved him back and kneed him hard in the groin. Jefferson doubled over in pain, giving Emma enough time to find a weapon, and then, with impressive force, she brought it down hard on his head. Jefferson dropped to the floor and his mind dropped out of consciousness.

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The clock tower chimed ominously in the distance like the drums of war and Jefferson stared up at his ceiling. He could still feel Emma's lips pressed to his, stirring him with feelings that made him forget everything, but the kiss hadn't been the solution to his curse. The kiss didn't work. The clock chimed on and Jefferson's eyes darted towards the window where he could see the noisy tower standing at the center of the town. Slowly, he moved from his bed to the window and glared at the enchanted timepiece, ticking and tocking away in the distance. _Of course!_ He thought as he stared at the tower. There was no greater master of time than a clock. There was no device more capable of announcing the day, and an enchanted clock possessed even more capability! A smile darkened Jefferson's features. But not if it stopped ticking…

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	3. Chapter 3

The inside of Jefferson's car looked like a student's last minute frenzy to cram for a final. The dashboard and the passenger seat were scattered with books and blue prints, detailing the inner workings of the clock tower. Jefferson gave one last thumb-through of the book he'd been studying before he tossed it aside, leaving open the page that preached of fire safety. With one last survey of the empty streets of Storybrooke, Jefferson abandoned his car in an alley and walked away into the night, carrying two red gas containers.

"_Anything worth doing is worth doing thoroughly." _he thought to himself as he approached the neglected library that sat below the clock tower.

He entered through the loose board of a boarded-up window—the same window he had once been through before. As he reached the octagonal room that housed the clocks mechanism, the irony of the situation struck him like a hand striking 12. Jefferson had once broke into the clock tower hoping to make it start, and now, he was hoping to stop it. The large cogwheels turned and the pendulum swung back and forth as Jefferson sat the gas containers down on the wooden floor boards. With the precision of a clocksmith, he disengaged the pendulum, causing the cogwheels to stop turning and the hands to stick at 12:25. He then swung the gas containers around, splashing the room and all its mechanical parts with gasoline. Jefferson backed away, dripping a line of flammable liquid as he went. Satisfied with the distance between him and the clock, he dropped the empty containers to the floor and pulled a small box of matches from his pocket. He lit the match and closed his eyes like a kid making a wish on his birthday. Jefferson wished to break the curse and then he dropped the match to the floor. He opened his eyes to see the flames race up the trail of gasoline to ignite at the base of the mechanism. As the fire touched the enchanted time-piece, he expected sparks or a puff of magic to oppose the flames, protecting itself from destruction. Jefferson expected to be knocked backwards by the powerful spell that had ever allowed this clock to start working once a certain yellow-bug-driving-blonde rolled into town. Nothing remarkable happened. The metal pieces of the fire-kissed-clock turned black from the heat and smoke that was quickly filling the room. Jefferson's eyes widened and his mouth fell as he looked around and realized that the room had turned into a raging, orange blaze! He turned and ran. Quickly, he headed for the exit, feeling the heat of the flames lick at his back as he made his way out to safety. Jefferson breathed a sigh of relief—or maybe it was a gasp for fresh air—and he turned around to gaze up at his work. He could hear sirens drawing near in the distance as he stepped backwards to get a wider view of the scene. The clock tower was engulfed in flames and he watched as its black hands began to melt from the heat, disabling them from pointing to the time ever again. He took another step back and then heard the familiar _click_ of a gun.

"Put your hands in the air and turn around!"

Jefferson's expression turned to one of boredom at the female's voice. _Shouldn't she be occupied with her runaway inmate?_ Jefferson raised his hands and turned to see the town sheriff.

"Emma." he greeted and she flinched at his intimate use of her name.

Without a shred of recognition, her eyes raked over him before glancing at the towering inferno that burned behind him. Her gun was steady as she held it pointed.

"I received a call about a man breaking into the old library," she confessed, "I almost ignored it. Why did you set it on fire?"

Before he could answer, the loud shrill of a siren pierced through the night air as the fire truck arrived on the scene.

"You need to get back!" a firefighter shouted to them as he jumped off the truck.

Suddenly, the clock's face exploded in the fire, sending shards of it to pelt the street below. Emma shielded her head with her arms, but Jefferson hardly flinched.

"It was worth a try." he shrugged.

Emma straightened and her eyes narrowed at his words.

"Well, I hope it's worth the jail time," she replied as he seized his arm, "Arson is a felony."

Emma forced his hands behind his back and slapped him in handcuffs, "Any particular reason why you thought it would be worth it?"

Jefferson glanced back as the firefighters scrambled to douse the blaze and all he saw was his own hopes, going up in flames.

"Desperation," he confessed, "When you're desperate enough...anything is worth a try."

Emma glanced at his face as she considered that.

"Desperate for what?" she asked as she opened the car door.

Jefferson slid down onto the backseat and made his face an iron mask as he listed-off a number of things in his head. _Grace. Home. Magic._ Emma waited a moment for his response, but when he didn't give one she shut the car door. Something clicked inside his head in that moment, like a light-bulb being switched-on only to explode. _Desperate times call for desperate measures, but desperate acts seldom bring you pleasures. _None of his other desperate attempts had worked—why should the clock tower fire be any different? Jefferson caught Emma's glance in the rear-view mirror as she drove to the sheriffs department and he blatantly looked away. From the moment he'd poured her that bad cup of tea, his desperate actions had only lead him to failure. Jefferson brooded silently during the drive and he remained that way through the whole booking process. As Emma guided him into one of the vacant jail cells, his eyes darted towards the cell Snow White had been in. Emma looked there too, and then heaved a sigh.

"I have to—"

"Don't bother," he interrupted her.

Emma halted and turned to look at him.

"What?"

Jefferson sighed his irritation.

"You're going-out to look for Mary Margaret. Don't bother."

Emma's eyes narrowed as she moved closer to the bars that he was standing behind.

"What do you know about it?" she asked accusingly.

Jefferson moved closer to the bars and gripped them with his hands as he held her gaze.

"I know that, come tomorrow morning, she'll be back in her cage, I'll be back home in mine, the clock tower will be chiming away and you won't remember any of this."

Emma's expression relaxed as she searched his, examining him with those hazel-green eyes that somehow saw everything and nothing.

"Right," Emma said as she turned her back on him, "When I get back, remind me to contact someone at the hospital and see if they can help you."

Jefferson's narrowed eyes followed her out of the room. What choice did he have but to make desperate actions when no one ever believed him. Feeling defeated, he sat down onto the stiff cot that his cell provided and he placed his head in his hands. For how long he sat like that he didn't know, but when he raised his head again he saw that the lighting had changed in the room. The early morning sun filtered through the overcast sky and poured-in through the windows of the sheriff's department. Snow White's cell was still empty and Emma hadn't returned. Jefferson stood to his feet and approached the bars as worry filled his heart. _What had happened to keep them away?_ He glanced at a wall clock just as it struck 7:00 and he realized that they had run out of time. Everyone in town new that it was "Mary Margaret's" arraignment day, but no one knew where "Mary Margaret" was. Suddenly a door opened at the entrance to the sheriff's department and the peculiar sound of 2 moving feet and 1 clicking cane, filled his ears. When Rumpelstiltskin came into view, Jefferson gave an irritated sigh that seemed to deflate his entire body. Rumpelstiltskin looked utterly bewildered.

"Where's Ms. Swan?" he questioned him.

Jefferson gave a shrug as he leaned a shoulder against the bars.

"Where's Snow White?"

Rumpelstiltskin shot him a look filled with warning.

"It seems that you are in-need of reminding, dearie," he began as he limped a step closer, "We're not in the Enchanted Forest anymore."

Jefferson rolled his eyes and decided not to reply to that.

"I passed what's left of the library this morning," the older man added, "I take it that's your handiwork."

Jefferson gave a bitter laugh.

"Handiwork," he scoffed, "It was a complete failure."

"Well, I'm sure Ms. Swan doesn't see it that way." Rumpelstiltskin made a tsking sound, "As if our poor sheriff didn't have enough on her plate."

Jefferson straightened at his mock sympathy, but before he could open his mouth to reply—Regina walked into the room. A winning smile was on her face as she took note of Snow White's empty cell, but when her gaze turned to him, she scowled.

"What are YOU doing here?"

Jefferson pursed his lips in annoyance and turned his back to her.

"Surely you noticed the clock tower by now." Rumpelstiltskin pointed out.

Regina gave a humorless laugh.

"Well, well, Jefferson. It seems your madness has finally landed you in the place you belong."

He ignored her as he strolled away from the bars and slumped back down onto his cot. Regina smirked at him before turning her attentions to Rumpelstiltskin. The two most powerful people in Storybrooke ignored him just as efficiently as they discussed their business. The pair spared no secrets, knowing that no one would ever believe Jefferson anyway. By the time the clock struck 8:00, Jefferson knew that Regina and Rumpelstiltskin were behind the supposed-death of Kathryn Nolan and the instrument of Snow White's escape. But for the moment, Jefferson cared about none of it. He was surprised he hadn't awoken in his bedroom by now. A flicker of hope rose inside him that, perhaps, his destruction of the clock tower had prevailed! Had he broken the loop? Was he finally going to see tomorrow? With hope blazing like a wildfire inside his heart, Jefferson glanced at the clock just as the hands struck 8:15.

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* * *

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The clock tower chimed it's familiar, damnable chime in the distance and Jefferson found himself back in his own bed. The weight of his tragic situation pressed heavily onto his chest, making it hard for him to breath. He got out of bed and looked through the telescope, catching Grace in her monotonously, blue scarf as she headed off to school. He pulled away as his eyes burned with sad, angry tears. What had he done to deserve this? What could he do to fix it? Jefferson didn't know.


	4. Chapter 4

The next five days passed in a blur. Jefferson never left his home and Emma never found Snow White in-time for her arraignment day. He realized—without any feeling of pride or justification—that Emma would never have found Snow White if it hadn't been for him, but he didn't care. For 5 days, Jefferson sulked around his home, watching the same scenes through his telescope as the days went by in a perpetual rewind. For 5 days he endured the same, uneventful sameness until he could no longer contain his restlessness...

Under the cloak of night, Jefferson worked to pick the lock on the pawn shop's door. His composure was as calm as the pawnbroker who owned it as he fiddled with the lock. Jefferson knew that Rumplestiltskin would be preoccupied at the Sheriff's Department, just as he knew that no one would be passing by. As soon as the lock clicked open, he slipped inside the shadowy store and began his search. He needed a talisman or a totem or some object that might be imbued with curse-breaking magic! After aimlessly fumbling through the dark, he managed to find something he never expected to find. Sitting on the highest shelf in the pawn shop was Jefferson's old hat box! He scrambled forward and grabbed the box from the shelf, flipping the lid back with a flick of his finger. Jefferson took-in a jagged breath at the familiar sight inside the box.

"My hat." He breathed the words as he lifted it out, allowing the box to drop to the floor.

He wasted no time on logical thinking or doubts as he gave the hat a spin and then took a step back. The hat teetered to a stop before it made a full rotation and sat useless on the floor. A loud growl of frustration rose from Jefferson's throat as he swiped his arms across the glass counter, knocking everything to the floor. He rampaged through the store, kicking over furniture and throwing objects across the room. Suddenly he froze as something caught his eye and he stumbled back over some debris on the floor. Jefferson fell back against a tall shelf, knocking a rather large crystal ball loose as he stared at the gleaming wand that sat on a dresser.

"Fairies!" he exclaimed with a triumphant smile just as the crystal ball rolled-off the shelf and clocked him in the head, unconscious.

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* * *

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Of course, the fairies were useless. After procuring the wand from the undisturbed pawn shop, he visited the town convent. He managed to convince the Blue Fairy to wave her wand at him a few times before she began preaching to him about the good gospel. Jefferson was informed that the only true form of magic was God's divine grace. He settled for having the Blue Fairy bestow him with a blessing to exorcise his apparent demons, or, as Jefferson insisted having her call it—breaking his curse.

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He woke to the sounds of the chiming clock tower, feeling not the tiniest bit blessed. He was utterly cursed. Jefferson had confronted the two most powerful possessors of magic in town, he'd kissed a princess, he'd destroyed a symbol of cursed enchantment, he'd tried his failed hat and he'd even received a divine blessing from a nun. If there was another way to break a curse, Jefferson couldn't conceive of it. He found himself tumbling down the rabbit-hole of hopeless despair. It was one thing to wait-out a 28-year-long curse, knowing it could be broken, but it was another thing entirely to be cursed with no end in sight. With nothing left to do, Jefferson sought-out the only comfort he'd ever been able to find in this land-without-magic: His daughter.

Grace sat at a booth with two of her friends, drinking hot chocolate and laughing. The sound of her laughter was filled with a genuine happiness that wrapped around Jefferson like a warm blanket. It was a momentary distraction from the hopeless situation he was trapped in. He glanced over his shoulder at her from across the diner where he sat at the bar. A cup of hot tea was in his hands and Grace's shared smiles with her friends brought a smile to his own face. Jefferson was hardly aware of anyone else in the dinner as he alternated from nursing his tea to glancing back at his daughter.

"Do you know Paige?"

Jefferson's head whipped around to see that Emma's son had taken the stool beside him. The boy looked up at him with inquisitive eyes and a friendly smile.

"What?" Jefferson questioned with wide-eyed befuddlement.

"Paige," Henry repeated himself as he glanced past Jefferson to the table where his daughter sat, "The girl in the blue scarf—do you know her?"

Jefferson eyed the boy with caution before he turned back to his cup.

"No," he replied, "She just reminds me of my daughter. That's all."

Henry tilted his head, curious, as he stared up at the man.

"Where is she?"

Jefferson heaved a frustrated sigh and took a long drink from his cup.

"She's with her other parents."

"Oh." Henry said as he plopped his storybook open on the counter with a _thud_.

The cup in Jefferson's hand jumped, causing some of his drink to drip over the side. Jefferson glanced over at the boy with narrowed eyes as he flipped through his book.

"Aren't you a little too old to believe those stories?"

Henry turned a page, unfazed by the question.

"They're not just stories." he replied.

Jefferson's expression softened and curiosity had him watching over Henry's shoulder as he silently read his book. A question arose in his mind; a question he felt too foolish to ask, but with a hard gulp, Jefferson swallowed his pride.

"Is there anything about the Mad Hatter in your book?"

A grin lit-up Henry's face as he looked up at the man.

"Sure," he said, "Wanna see?"

With another swallow, Jefferson nodded his head and Henry quickly flipped through the pages he knew all too well. When the page opened to an illustration of a little girl walking through the woods with her father, Jefferson's heart plummeted to the floor. He grabbed the book, sliding it across the counter to sit before him as he hurriedly read the words on the page. A tear burned in his eye at the achingly familiar story and he glanced over his shoulder to the table where Grace sat.

"It's you." a whispered voice said from beside him that brought him back to reality.

Slowly, Jefferson turned to look at Henry. The boy gazed up at him with such hope in his eyes that Jefferson couldn't bare to discourage him.

"You remember?" Henry asked in amazement.

Jefferson nodded.

"That's my curse."

Henry reached-out a hand to turn the page to the illustration of the Mad Hatter in Wonderland.

"Because the Evil Queen tricked you."

Jefferson took in a deep breath and looked Henry in the eyes, thinking that a boy shouldn't be burdened with such knowledge. As Henry held his gaze, his eyes—darker than Emma's—suddenly lit-up with purpose.

"You can help make Emma believe!"

Jefferson winced at the suggestion.

"I'm sorry, kid, but I—"

"HENRY."

The authoritative female voice sprung Jefferson from his seat and he turned to see Regina. Her dark eyes were filled with warning and threats of evildoing. Henry quickly closed his book before she could see the page it was turned to.

"Sorry, mom," the boy was quick to apologize, "I know—I was supposed to come home after school."

"Exactly," she said as she shooed him to the door, "And we'll talk about why you didn't in the car."

Henry spared a desperate glance at Jefferson before he walked out of the diner.

"Jefferson," she forced a cordial smile, "I trust you and my son were having _casual_ conversation."

Jefferson merely regarded her with boredom. Regina took a step towards him despite their audience and then leaned-in to whisper.

"It will be the last time you speak to my son, or mark my words..." Regina's eyes darted towards Grace.

Jefferson glared at her as she stepped back, smoothed-out her suit and put on a smile.

"Goodbye, Jefferson."

He settled back on to his stool as he watched her exit the diner, and then realized the other customers had turned their attention to his and the mayor's curious exchange. He met their glances with disinterest until his eyes fell upon the brown ones of his daughter. He swallowed down a lump of emotion as his own child looked at him without the slightest bit of recognition in her eyes. It was the reason he seldom left his home; he couldn't stand for her to look at him as if he were a stranger. Jefferson turned on the stool and placed some money on the counter before he quickly walked away, exiting the diner.

He placed his hands in his coat pockets as he walked down the street, turning his attentions to the unmarred clock tower. He realized that the one good thing to arise from reliving the same day was that consequences would never matter. Come tomorrow, Regina would no more remember that he had spoken to Henry, then she would remember threatening him for it. It was a good thing, too, because Jefferson had no intention of heeding her words.

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* * *

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**A/N: In case anyone was wondering, I have this story completely outlined to 10 chapters, and although there are other things I'm *supposed* to be doing, I will keep trying to update! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, fav-ed and followed so far!**

**Thanks for reading! ;-)**


	5. Chapter 5

When the sun would begin to set, the light filtering-in through the windows of Jefferson's home would cast strange shadows on the floor. It was at this time that Snow White would make her jail break. As the clock tower in the distance chimed its ninth chime, Jefferson knew that Grace would crawl under her bed covers as her false-father switched-off the light. And while most of the Storybrooke children were settling into their beds for the night—one boy was not.

Henry rounded the corner that led out of the main detention area just as Jefferson entered the Sheriff's Department. The smile that had been on the boys face quickly faded and was replaced by panic as he saw a man with an unusual neck scarf approaching him.  
"Uh…hi." he greeted awkwardly as he stopped between Jefferson and the room where Snow White was not, "Are you looking for the Sheriff? She's not here."  
Jefferson smirked.  
"I know," he replied, "I'm not here for her. I'm here for you."

Confusion crossed Henry's face and Jefferson took a seat in one of the chairs that lined the wall, hoping to make the boy feel a little more at ease.

"My name's Jefferson," he introduced himself as he leaned back in his chair, "And I know about the curse."

The boys eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then lowered as if he were remembering something.

"Jefferson?" he asked, experimentally, "Like the Mad Hatter in my book?"

Jefferson heaved a sigh and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Believe me, kid," he began as he met the boys gaze, "That's not easy to own up to, but you're the only one who'll believe it."

"August believes," Henry piped as he took the seat next to him, "He said he's a believer."

Jefferson's brow furrowed as he searched the boys face.

"August." he repeated the name, "You mean—the stranger with the motorcycle?"

Henry nodded, "He wants to get Emma to believe."

Jefferson narrowed his eyes as he stared off in contemplation. "Don't we all."

With a renewed purpose, he rose from his seat and said his goodbyes to Henry. He didn't know anything about the stranger—other than what he had observed through his telescope—but he knew where he was staying and he knew that he couldn't leave any stones unturned.

When he arrived at the bed and breakfast, he managed to avoid running into its overseers'. He found the only occupied room by listening at each door and then, without any care to his rudeness, he knocked on the one that belonged to August. He heard his footsteps approach the door and Jefferson steeled his face as the stranger opened it wide.

"Yeah?" came his crude greeting as he gave Jefferson a once-over.

Jefferson didn't respond as he scowled at the man that stood before him with the unshaven face and the self-assured stare. August raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry—Did I park my bike in your spot or something?" Jefferson gave him a bored look, "No? Well, did I break some small town law? Flirt with your girlfriend? Tempt your—"

"You told a 10-year-old boy that you believed in his stories."

August rocked back on his heels as he eyed him curiously.

"That's right," he admitted, "I did. What's it to you?"

"Why did you do it?" Jefferson questioned, "Was it some ploy to humor the kid and win over his mother, or do you actually _believe_?"

The man, named August, made a show of thoughtfully considering Jefferson's words before he smiled at him.

"Both."

Jefferson stared, un-amused, and then he strode forward, shouldering passed the stranger as he slipped inside the room.

"Come on in." August mocked while Jefferson glanced around at his belongings.

His eyes lingered on the typewriter.

"You're a writer," he inferred, "Why are you in Storybrooke?"

August laughed in disbelief.

"You bang on my door in the dead of night, walk into my room uninvited and somehow you think it's okay to be questioning _me_?"

Jefferson sighed.

"I'm just trying to determine whether or not you actually know what's going on in this town. The truth."

"Do _you_ know the truth?" he asked with an amused grin, "Because from my understanding, no one here does."

Jefferson rolled his eyes at the roundabout way they kept dancing around the subject.

"I'm under a curse," Jefferson blurted out, "Two, actually—the one that held this town frozen for 28 years, and a new one that's causing me to relive the same day over and over."

August gave a curious tilt of his head before moving to close the room's door. "How do you remember when no one else does?"

Frustrated, Jefferson threw his arms into the air and exclaimed, "That's my curse!"

"But _you_," he pointed a finger at August, "You're not from here. How do you know about any of this?"

August crossed his arms over his chest and gave Jefferson an earnest look.

"Because I'm from _there_."

Jefferson's shoulders slumped and his scowl relaxed as he realized that "there" meant "home"_._

"How did you get to this world?"

Amusement tugged at the corner of August's mouth but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I was sent here with Emma. To protect her."

Jefferson's brow furrowed at that knowledge and he found himself pacing back and forth in the small room. A thousand questions were running through his mind and he couldn't decide which was the most important.

"So," August broke the silence, "Who did _you_ used to be?"

Jefferson's jaw clenched at the question and he averted his eyes away from him. August gave a laugh under his breath that turned into a grin on his face.

"That bad, huh? Aw, come on," he coaxed, "It can't be worse than having a nose that grew whenever you told lie."

Jefferson shot him a look. He was tempted to ask August if he had once been a wooden puppet, but he realized that there was only one question that mattered.

"Do you have magic?"

August gave a laugh_._

"I wish," he said as he reached down to roll-up his jeans, revealing a leg that was turning to wood, "I could sure use some."

Jefferson swallowed as he stared at the leg, and then, he quickly glanced at the floor, feeling more sympathy for the stranger than he wanted to. It was a bit of an unwanted reality check to learn that someone had been dealt a worse hand than he had. Sure, Jefferson had been separated from his daughter for an immeasurable amount of time, but at least he wasn't slowly turning to wood!

"I gotta be honest," August confessed as he covered his leg, "I'm a little worried that I won't be around to see Emma break this curse."

Jefferson nodded. "Emma's not easily convinced."

"No," August agreed with a chuckle, "No, she's not. She's a tough cookie, but I think getting her to believe is the only way either of us will get what we want. And if a skeptic like Emma can believe in magic—Well, I'd say anything's possible."

Jefferson considered his words as he drew his gaze to the floor. _Anything's possible. _It occurred to him that getting Emma to believe could be the very key to breaking his perpetual loop. He glanced up at August and studied him for a moment.

"But how do you convince someone who refuses to believe?"

August gave a sigh.

"Proof. Irrefutable proof. It's gotta be something that she can't find a logical reason for. And buddy, that woman's got an arsenal of reasons!"

Jefferson smirked at that. He remembered some of Emma's reasoning. He could still hear her explaining about "the real world" as if he were insane for suggesting that hers was not the only one. He had known that, in this land-without-magic, that there was no proof of other viable worlds, but he hadn't known the extent to which Emma needed proof. Irrefutable proof. Jefferson found himself taking a seat on the bed as an idea struck him like a thunderstorm in his mind.

"I have proof." the words fell from his mouth as if they didn't belong to him.

August moved around the small room and stopped before him. "Care to share?"

Jefferson glanced up and a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Foreknowledge," he said, "I keep reliving the same day. I could easily learn everything that occurs. Conversations that people share. Mishaps before they happen. Every move that Regina makes before she makes it. It would give Emma irrefutable proof that I've been cursed and then she'd believe in magic!"

August blinked.

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of work," he admitted as he ran a hand through his hair, "And I respect your determination, but honestly, I doubt that Emma would buy it."

Jefferson stood to his feet and a scowl darkened his face.

"She has to," he growled as he took a menacing step towards August, "How could she deny my foresight if she sees it for herself?"

"She'll think it's a coincidence," August reasoned with him, "Or she'll think it's a hoax!"

Jefferson's jaw clenched angrily and he strode out of the room.

"Sorry—I'm just being honest." August apologized as he followed him to the door.

Jefferson _humphed_ at that and then he exited the bed and breakfast. He wasn't going to let the doubts of a writer with a wooden leg stop him. The way Jefferson saw it—he only had one trick left up his sleeve and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to use it.

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* * *

.

The clock tower chimed and Jefferson's eyes flashed open with purpose. He rose from his bed and tossed aside the covers before he moved across the room to a large walk-in closet. The closet was lined with clothing that he had neither chosen nor hung there—and yet, he couldn't deny that they were to his liking. Jefferson placed a dark scarf around his neck, adjusting it with a meticulous precision—like a ritual—that had come from years of hiding his scar. He donned a collared shirt and then a fitted vest, buttoning the buttons absentmindedly as his narrowed eyes stared-off with determination. Once he was fully dressed and his hair had achieved the polished tussle, Jefferson drove his car to Granny's. The diner, which he considered to be the hub of their little hamlet, was the perfect place for him to start learning the ins-and-outs of the day. Sitting at the booth in the corner with a cup of tea and a newspaper, Jefferson observed everything. He eavesdropped on conversations, he took mental notes of menu choices and he paid particularly close attention to the two instances that Emma visited the diner. He would learn her every move and her every word, and then, he would challenge her skepticism.

Jefferson continued out this pattern until the days passed by in a monotonous rhythm and he knew their beat like he knew how to breathe. He could sit on the bench across from Grace's school and name every car, bike and person, in succession, before they passed him by. He could narrow it down to the second when the postman would make his deliveries. He knew every disingenuous word that would come out of Regina's mouth throughout the course of the day. And Jefferson knew that Emma's occupation with Snow White's trial had caused her to search desperately for proof. Jefferson was ready to provide her with proof...


	6. Chapter 6

Jefferson's eyes followed Emma through the diner's entrance and then up to the bar as he sat in his booth, toying with his tea cup. He watched with boredom as the waitress, named Ruby, initiated a monotonously familiar conversation about Snow White. Jefferson knew everything the two women would say to each other before they even knew it themselves. With a quick sip from his cup, Jefferson prepared himself to break up the monotony.

"So, what can I get for you?" the waitress asked Emma.

Jefferson took his cue.

"She'll have a coffee—two creams, two sugars—and one of those breakfast sandwiches with the eggs and the spinach."

Emma shot him a look from over her shoulder. She couldn't stop the puzzled expression that formed on her face, anymore than Jefferson could stop the way his lip curled at the mention of the spinach-egg-sandwich. Emma was unimpressed.

"Nice trick," she replied, "I bet you're all the rage at parties."

Jefferson rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his cup as she turned back to Ruby.

"He's right. That's what I was going to order."

The waitress gave Jefferson a curious look before nodding at Emma and walking away.

"You know," he baited her, "It's a shame about that spinach."

Emma looked back at him from over her shoulder as she opened her mouth to say something, but—

"Hey Emma? The cook said he had to throw the spinach out this morning. Is lettuce and tomato, okay?"

"Anything with vegetables is good," Jefferson answered as Emma gaped at him, "Mary Margaret's worried what the jail-time and all the takeout's going to do to her figure."

Emma's face was drawn with confusion and the waitress gave a small laugh.

"Well, that does sound like Mary Margaret," Ruby admitted, "Is that true, Emma?"

"Uh," she flustered as she turned back to the waitress, "Yeah...that's fine."

Ruby smiled, and then walked off again to tell the cook while Emma turned around to glare at Jefferson. The dark look in her eyes made him straighten in his seat as she crossed the distance between them.

"Who are you?" she spoke in a harsh voice as she stood over his booth, "Have you been spying on me?"

Jefferson gave a secretive laugh before schooling his amusement and meeting her gaze.

"My name's Jefferson," he replied, "And in 5 seconds, Leroy's going to come walking through that door raving about the coffee maker at the hospital."

"That's—"

"Four."

"How do you—"

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

The bell on the door jingled.

"That coffee maker is on the fritz again!" Leroy grumbled as he walked inside, "And _who_ do they send on a coffee run? The janitor! That hospital doesn't pay me enough!"

Emma gave Jefferson an accusing look and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What did you do to their coffee maker?"

Jefferson sighed his irritation. "Your order's up."

"Emma!" Ruby called, "Food's ready!"

Emma turned away from him and walked up to the counter where Leroy was gathering-up coffees as fast as Granny made them. Jefferson watched Emma pay for her order before she walked across the diner towards him, carrying a brown paper bag and a cup of coffee. Emma fixed him with a bored look.

"What?" she questioned," Are you trying to convince me that your psychic or something?"

"Why?" Jefferson asked as he examined her, "Do you believe in psychics?"

Emma scoffed at that.

"No—"

"Good," he interrupted her, "Because I'm not psychic."

Jefferson stood up from his booth then, and Emma eyed him suspiciously, tilting her chin up to see him as he stood to his full height.

"If you're not psychic than what's your pitch?"

Jefferson smiled.

"Here. Let me get the door for you," he deflected, "You'll want to get that coffee to your friend before it turns cold."

Jefferson walked towards the door then and held it open for Emma as she followed behind him.

"Is this some elaborate town hoax?" she asked as she paused at the threshold, fixing him with a secretive smile, "Some joke on the sheriff to break the tension over the trial?"

Jefferson took a step towards her, invading her space in that too-close way of his, and then, he leaned-in as if to whisper. "No."

Emma made a face and walked passed him.

"Then what's your explanation for knowing everything that was going to happen in that diner?"

Jefferson followed her out, closing the door behind him.

"What does it matter?" he countered, "You wouldn't believe the explanation anyway."

Emma turned to glare at him as she opened her mouth to, no-doubt, tell him off.

"Look—" Jefferson said as he pointed a finger at a passing school bus, "After the bus, there will be a blue car, then Dr. Hopper walking his dog, and then, a red truck—which you will try to avoid."

Emma rolled her eyes at him, but then she saw the blue car as it passed by the diner and her head turned to watch it disappear down the street.

"Good morning, Emma!" Archie called to her as he walked by with his spotted dog.

Emma barely managed to raise her hand to wave before her eyes darted to the street, expecting the red truck. Sure enough, the red truck came into view, and as soon as Emma saw David behind the wheel, she hurried off to her little yellow bug.

"He's just as concerned about Mary Margaret as you are!" Jefferson assured her, but she was too busy getting inside her car to care.

With a frustrated sigh, Jefferson watched her drive away, fearing that maybe August was right. Maybe Emma wouldn't buy into his foresight. The thought made his insides churn, but he wasn't nearly finished trying. Jefferson got into his own car and drove to the sheriffs department.

After a few minutes of waiting outside the building, Jefferson finally heard the sound of Emma's approach.

"Going to see Mr. Gold?"

Emma about jumped out of her skin and she spun around to see him.

"You again!" she exclaimed, "What do you—?"

"You're going to ask for his help. Aren't you?"

Emma glared as she looked him from head to toe and then she moved towards him until she was close enough to touch.

"How could you know that?" she asked as she searched his eyes, "I only just thought of it."

"Here," Jefferson said as he dug a hand into his coat pocket to pull-out a folded piece of paper, "Take this with you. But _don't_ read it until you've finished talking to Mr. Gold. It's a transcript of the conversation you'll have with him. If you read it first it may change the outcome."

Emma swallowed as she took the paper from his hand.

"How could you possibly know what we're going to say before we've said it?"

"Emma, please," Jefferson pleaded and he saw something change in her eyes, "Read it only after you've spoken to him."

Emma examined him for a moment. Her hazel-green eyes raked over his features like dragging a flea-comb through a cats fur, but Emma found nothing.

"Okay," her voice was quiet as she agreed, "But when I'm done, you're going to tell me what this is about—" Emma glanced at the unfamiliar car that was parked next to hers before looking back at Jefferson, "I assume you'll be following me there too?"

Jefferson smirked.

"Unless you'll allow me to drive you."

"Not a chance." she replied as she turned and walked towards her car.

Jefferson waited outside the pawnshop, leaning against the storefront as he named each car and person that passed by. When Emma walked out, her expression was blank and her bent arm appeared to be locked in place as it held the paper he had given her. He could recognize his own writing on the page from where she held it.

"White mini van." he said, absentmindedly.

Emma straightened as the van drove passed her and she turned her body to face him.

"How? How can you know all of this?" she asked with a tremble in her voice, "You knew what I would say to Gold...verbatim! How? It's impossible!"

Jefferson gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Emma, will you take a walk with me?"

Her eyes snapped-up to meet his and she stared at him for a moment as she considered it. Emma swallowed.

"Okay."

As they walked around town, Jefferson continued to point things out to her before they happened. Despite her persistent questioning, Jefferson refused to tell her how he was able to do it and it only seemed to make her more interested. They wound up sitting on the bench that was across from the school just as the kids were out for recess.

"Are you aware that the other kids sometimes pick-on Henry?"

Emma shot him a look and then glanced across the street towards the school.

"I—" Emma made a face and then nodded, "I figured that they might, but—"

"It's because of his storybook," Jefferson informed her, "He gets picked-on at school because of it. Regina put him in therapy because of it. And the _one_ person he has the most faith in—you—doesn't believe in it either."

Emma scoffed at that.

"He thinks everyone in this town is a fairytale character! That's—"

"See," Jefferson said, "If you can't believe your own son, how could you believe me?"

Emma gave him a curious look.

"What?" she asked with an amused smile, "Are you saying that you're a fairytale character?"

Jefferson's jaw clenched at the way she said it.

"We'll come back to that question later," he replied as his eyes focused on something across the street, "But right now, a little boy's going to fall out of a tree and knock himself unconscious if you don't catch him."

Emma's mouth fell as she turned to look at him.

"How? His teachers shouldn't—"

"Go!" Jefferson shouted as he pointed a finger towards the school.

Emma turned to see the little boy, who was way-up a tree, just as he reached above his head to grab a flimsy looking limb.

"KID, DON'T!" she yelled as she ran across the street towards him.

With a _crack, _the limb broke under the boys weight and he fell just as Emma reached him with stretched-out arms. She let out a small grunt as the boy fell heavy against her. Soon, teachers and students were all surrounding Emma.

"That's the second time he's pulled this!" a gray-haired teacher informed her, "Last time, he spent two days in the hospital!"

Jefferson watched as Henry appeared in the crowd, looking elated over what Emma had done. For a brief moment, Jefferson caught sight of his own child, seeing her bright brown eyes as they curiously scanned the scene. He decided to leave the bench then. He didn't want thoughts of his daughter to confuse which curse he was trying to break. Jefferson walked off down the street then, giving Emma a little time to let the day's events sink in. Something about the suspense of "not knowing" seemed to make her more open, more accepting.

When early evening rolled around and the sun was beginning to set, Jefferson dropped by the apartment Emma shared with Mary Margaret. He knocked on the door twice and then waited.

"Jefferson!" she said in surprise as she opened the door.

"I need you to come with me to the station."

Emma's brow furrowed as she surveyed his face for seriousness, and then, without hesitation, she grabbed for her jacket.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she closed the door behind herself and followed him to his car.

"Mary Margaret is about to make a run for it."

"WHAT?! How?"

When they entered the sheriff's department, they nearly ran right into the escapee.

"Mary Margaret!" Emma gasped as a look of utter shock crossed her face, "How did you get out?"

The innocent inmate broke-down in the hallway. She dropped down to the floor, crying as a key rolled out of her hand. Jefferson turned away, trying to give her some privacy while Emma knelt down to comfort her. He understood the desperation behind her escape attempt. He could feel the hopelessness behind her tears. Part of him wanted to help this woman, but his goal was more important. He needed to get Emma to believe. Right on cue, Henry entered the sheriff's department to find the two women on the floor next to a familiar key. The boy pointed-out that it was just like Regina's skeleton keys, and then, understanding dawned on Emma's face. Gently, she helped her distressed friend back to her cell, leaving Jefferson alone with Henry. When Emma came back to face Jefferson, she found him sitting beside Henry as they glanced through the storybook.

"Okay," she said as she looked pointedly at Jefferson, "I'm ready for you to tell me. How do you know all of this?"

Jefferson gave her a cautious look.

"Back to the question of whether or not I'm a fairytale character?" Emma nodded. "It's true," he replied, "I've been cursed to keep reliving this same day. Regina cursed this town and now, as you know, she's trying to frame Mary Margaret."

Henry held up his book and pointed to the page that told of Regina's skeleton keys. Emma took the seat next to Henry and she reached for his book. She flipped through its pages, passing the story of the Mad Hatter. Henry's hand moved to mark the page.

"That's him, Emma," Henry said as he pointed to the illustrated version of Jefferson.

Emma made a face.

"The Mad Hatter?"

Jefferson's jaw reflexively clenched at the name.

"Do you believe?" He asked as he leaned forward, glancing past Henry to see her.

Emma swallowed as her fingers traced over the words on the page.

"So," she began as she looked up to meet his gaze, "Everything you know, you know it because you've been reliving it. But—for how long?"

Jefferson gave a humorless laugh. The sound was so devoid of levity it sounded completely desolate.

"I've lost count."

Emma looked away from him and turned her eyes to Henry.

"Do you know him?" she asked, "Have you talked to Jefferson before?"

The boy shook his head.

"I just met him right now. Do you believe him, Emma?"

She swallowed as she looked into her sons eyes and gave an uncertain shrug of her shoulders.

"I think I have to, kid. I mean—there's nothing else that can explain everything I've seen today."

Hope sprung Jefferson to his feet and a smile to his face.

"How about one more piece of proof?" he asked as he offered her his hand.

Emma took it without hesitation and he closed his fingers around hers as he pulled her to her feet.

"Come on," he called to Henry, "We're going to visit a friend."

"Who?" Emma asked with suspicion in her voice.

Jefferson smirked.

"Pinocchio."

As Jefferson parked his car in front of the bed and breakfast, he could see the wheels turning in Emma's mind. After all, there was only _one_ guest staying there.

"August?!" Emma exclaimed, "August is Pinocchio?"

A corner of Jefferson's mouth tugged-up in amusement as he led them to a stop at August's door. He gave the door two knocks and was greeted with an infamous, "yeah".

August's eyes brightened when he got a look at his visitors.

"Emma. Henry. And—"

"Jefferson," Emma informed him before she shot Jefferson a look, "No one seems to know him, but he knows everybody."

Jefferson sighed.

"August, may we come in?"

August opened the door and ushered them in with a sweep of his arm.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Jefferson waited until August closed the door, and then he took a step towards him, fixing him with a serious look.

"Show them your leg."

August tilted his head as his eyes raked over the faces of his guests. He gave a laugh of disbelief, "What?"

"Emma's starting to believe." Jefferson replied.

August furrowed his brow as an intrigued smile formed on his face.

"Really?" he asked as he stared at Emma.

Emma shrugged. "What's the deal with your leg?"

August rolled up his pants, revealing his half wooden appendage and Emma gasped.

"Cool!" Henry cheered.

"Actually buddy, it's not that cool," August replied with an apologetic face, "I'm kind of turning into wood, here."

Emma walked towards him and hesitantly reached out a hand to touch his leg. She felt the wood grain beneath her finger tips and then pulled back her hand like it had been burned.

"It's real!" she shrieked as she looked up at August with eyes as big as saucers, "You're Pinocchio."

Emma straightened and turned her back on him as she took in a deep, shaky breath. Henry crossed the room to his mother and threw his arms around her, pinning them to her sides.

"It's okay, Emma," the boy tried to sooth her, "Now that you believe, we can break the curse!"

Jefferson smiled to himself. That was all he needed to hear. He clasped a hand on August's shoulder as they shared in the mutual pride that came from getting Emma to believe—nevermind that August had no idea who he was. He whispered to August then, asking if he would see Emma and Henry home in his stead. Jefferson couldn't wait to leave. August nodded and Jefferson said his thanks as he opened the door.

"Wait!" Henry called after him and he froze, "Thanks, Jefferson, for your help. I hope it was enough to break your curse."

Jefferson turned and gave the boy a small smile before he left the room. There was no quicker way to find out than by going to sleep and Jefferson felt as if he were carrying the weariness on the world. When he finally reached his home, he went straight to his bed. He crashed on the mattress like a ton of bricks and relished in the softness of the covers beneath his face. A contended smile curved-up his mouth.

"Emma believes."

_Anything's possible. _With the anticipation that the morning would bring a new day, Jefferson fell fast asleep. If he would dream that night, he was sure it would be of Grace—to see her free from the loop he was stuck in and going about her day on a path he couldn't predict. Then, and only then, could he be one day closer to breaking the curse that really mattered; The curse of being separated from his daughter.

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* * *

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**A/N: 4 more chapters to go. ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Morning came. It came forth like a doctor from the emergency room with remorse in his eyes and bad news on his tongue. Beneath the covers that Jefferson had _not_ folded himself into were not the street clothes he had gone to bed in. Outside his window, as the clock tower chimed its gloomy chime, the day was not the new day he had been hoping to wake up to. There was no new day. It didn't exist. Jefferson doubted that it ever would.

He dressed himself in black and scarfed his neck hurriedly before ruffling a careless hand through his hair. He left his home and drove away in his car, speeding through the town like a getaway driver. Jefferson's hand griped tight at the wheel and his eyes stared hard at the road. He rounded a curve at a dangerous speed as he clenched his jaw, chewing-over his newest idea: A curiosity of where the road would lead him.

The winding road that laid before him was heavily bordered by forest. The trees flew by in a blur at the speed he was pushing his little car to. When the "Storybrooke" sign came into view, Jefferson narrowed his eyes, glaring so hard they grew wet with anger. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, pressing the pedal to the floorboard and propelling his car forward at a speed that forced his back to his seat. He zoomed passed the towns signage, moving faster than any fallen tree, boulder, or passing animal could stop him. Jefferson headed straight for the invisible border and his car struck it like a bug hitting a windshield. He was barely aware of the impact that crushed him and his car like an accordion before his vision turned black.

.

* * *

.

The clock tower chimed and Jefferson found himself in his bed, unharmed. He frowned as he realized he had momentarily forgotten about what happened when people tried to leave Storybrooke. Someone always got hurt; car wrecks, engine failure, heart attacks. No one ever died, but no one ever made it across the border. Jefferson thought of Snow White as he stared up at the ceiling, having no reason to rise from his bed.

_What happens to her every night?_ He wondered. _How far does she make it through the woods?_

After night had fallen and the cold, humid air allowed a fog to sweep across the town, Jefferson took a walk. He kept just within the line of trees that lined the road, having no desire to encounter the little yellow bug or its driver. He was weary of Emma. He was weary of everything, and if he didn't keep himself occupied with some sort of task—he feared his mind would start to slip.

Jefferson walked through the forest with only moonlight to light his path as he followed the familiar trail he had twice captured Snow White on. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, fighting off a chill as he far surpassed the spot where he had caught her. Wherever Snow White was she would certainly be cold.

Jefferson came to a shallow stream that wound its way through the dark forest. He followed it South to where he judged the town border to be, and then he saw her. His hands slipped out of his pockets as he ran to where she laid. Slippery stones were beneath her and her legs had plunged into the cold stream as her head was pillowed by a large jagged rock. Jefferson took a knee and reached-out a hand to her cold cheek, moving her unresponsive face towards him. He could see her chest moving beneath her coat as she breathed, but her lips were turning blue from the frigid air. Jefferson suppressed a shiver as he pulled back his hand and stood to his feet. His eyes glanced around the forest as the moon shone over head, casting light down through the canopy of leaves.

_We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke._

The curse happens. No matter how small the proportion, there was most definitely magic in Storybrooke. It must have been floating in the air, as tiny as atoms, making-up only the smallest percentage of the air's composition. It was the only thing that explained how the borders of Storybrooke went on the defensive whenever they were threatened. Magic had been in Storybrooke all along, but it was a stingy bitch with her own agenda. Jefferson stared down at Snow White, feeling a tug of guilt at his chest, but he would do nothing to help her. Come morning, she'd be back in her cage as if she'd never slipped and hit her head. Jefferson went home, leaving Snow White to her fate.

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* * *

.

The next night, he followed Emma. He found her car parked on the side of the road as she searched the forest in the wrong direction, calling-out "Mary Margaret". Her search continued on into the morning as she stumbled passed the trees, exhausted and hoarse from yelling. Her ill-fated attempt extended passed the time set for Snow White's arraignment day and Jefferson could see the hopelessness on her face. As he stood behind a tree, watching her from a safe distance, Jefferson noticed that her hopelessness distracted him from feeling his own.

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* * *

.

Morning came again. Same as always, and Jefferson sought-out the misfortunes of others. He watched Leroy struggle and fail to balance 3 cardboard-cup-holders filled with 12 cups of coffee. His blunder resulted in a messy spill of cream, sugar and black coffee on the hospitals recently mopped floors. Leroy stormed-off, leaving the strange man who janitored the psychiatric ward to clean up the mess. Nurses complained about not having their caffeine fix and Jefferson observed them with a blank stare. It was like watching a daytime soap opera; it was a mind-numbing distraction from his own woes.

The afternoon rolled around to find Jefferson still wandering around the hospital, filling his ears and eyes with pointless drama and minor injuries. When the little boy, who had fallen from the tree, was wheeled-in on a stretcher, Jefferson paused. He stepped out of the way as the stretcher, carrying the crying boy, rolled passed him. A worried looking woman with a cell phone pressed to her ear hurried after the boy.

"He broke his arm this time." she told the person on the other end before she followed the stretcher into a room.

Jefferson swallowed and glanced down at his shoes as a wave of guilt came over him. How could he take comfort from a little boys injury? Jefferson walked-off down the hallway and through the hospital doors as thoughts of another little boy crossed his mind.

It was night when he entered the Sheriff's Department and Henry was just rounding the corner out of the main detention area. The boys expression turned panicked as he saw the man approaching him and he quickly put himself in Jefferson's advancing path.  
"Uh…hi." he greeted awkwardly as he walked backwards trying to detour the man from seeing the room where Snow White was not, "The Sheriff's not here right now, but I can tell her you dropped by. What's your name?"

"Jefferson." he replied with disinterest as he kept moving forward.

With a stretched-out arm, Jefferson distractingly ruffled Henry's hair and walked passed him into the room with the prison cells. Henry scrambled after him, making little sounds of protest as he followed him into the room. Jefferson took a seat behind Emma's desk and his blank gaze raked over the mess that covered it.

"Oh!" Henry exclaimed as if he had been enlightened, "You must be in on Emma's genius escape plan!"

Jefferson gave a dark laugh before he fixed the boy with a sharp look.  
"Emma wouldn't brake the law to set Snow White free. That wouldn't help anyone."

Henry blinked at the mans choice of words and then walked towards him.

"You said Snow White," he pointed-out as he placed the book he was carrying on Emma's desk.

Jefferson gave a tired roll of his eyes. Too many times he had been through this song and dance with the boy.

"Yes," he replied as he glared at the empty cell, "Snow White. Emma's mother. Your grandmother. Regina's reason for cursing all of the unfortunate characters in your book."

Jefferson thrust his finger at the book and then swallowed down a lump that had risen in his throat. His brow furrowed as he thought back on the illustrations of the Mad Hatter.

"Never have I been driven more _mad_ than I am now." he said as he glared at the book, "I've tried everything, kid. Everything! I even got your mother to believe!" Jefferson grinned at the memory but his amusement held no mirth. "Still, I keep reliving this same day. Over and over and over and over and—"

"You got Emma to believe?" Henry interrupted.

Jefferson gave a tired sigh.

"Yes. But it didn't do any good. Did it? Nothing that happens matters," he muttered as he slumped in the desk chair, "When 8:15 A.M. rolls around, the day starts all over again."

Henry's expression turned contemplative as he drummed his fingers on his book.

"If the same day keeps repeating," the boy began, "Why are you the only one who realizes it?"

Jefferson's jaw clenched impatiently.

"Because it only happens to _me._"

Henry's eyebrows knitted together.

"But why?" he asked, "Why you? Why this day? Why not the day before? Or the day before that?"

Jefferson's swallowed as he considered the boys words. _Why "this day"? _Jefferson's realized that of all the 28-years worth of days he'd spent in Storybrooke, "this day" was the first day he'd been proactive—albeit unsuccessful. He had saved Snow White from crossing the border, sure, but he'd failed to have Emma make him a hat. Jefferson gave a humorless laugh as he thought about how futile it all had been.

Even if by some fluke Emma had managed to make the hat work, Grace still wouldn't have known who he was. How cruel would he have been to take her away from the only world she knew?

"I made a mistake." Jefferson confessed

"What did you do?"

Jefferson smiled at the curious boy as he imagined telling him just exactly what he had done to his mother and grandmother. Kidnapped them. Drugged them. Held them a gun point. Wrestled Emma on the floor. It had been criminal. It had been crazy. _No wonder she hit me with a telescope._

"I," Jefferson began, unsure what to say, "I may have wronged a few people."

Henry twisted up his mouth in thought.

"Have you tried to apologize?"

Jefferson gave a bark of a laugh and rubbed a frustrated hand down his face.

"Kid. They don't _remember_ any of it."

Henry gave a sheepish smile as he recalled what the man said about the day always restarting.

"Well, maybe you can make it up to them some other way."

Jefferson stared at Snow White's empty cell with a brooding gaze. _Make it up to them. _Apologize. Atone. Eat humble pie. Jefferson blinked and then his eyes widened.

"Penance," Jefferson breathed the word as he looked at the boy, "Do you know what penance means?"

Henry screwed-up his face as he thought about it, but then he shook his head. Jefferson smiled.

"It's kind of like punishing yourself to make up for some wrongdoing."

Henry frowned.

"But isn't being cursed enough of a punishment?"

Jefferson gave a humorless laugh.

"One would think," he replied, "But, this isn't your run-of-the-mill curse. I think I've been too busy trying to find a magical solution to break the curse that I ignored one very important fact."

"What is it?" Henry asked.

Jefferson met the boys curious gaze.

"Not all curses are punishments," the words flowed from his mouth and into his own ears as if they were unfamiliar, "Some curses are meant to be lessons." Jefferson's gaze grew distant as he considered that. "And you, Henry, just made me realize that I've yet to learn mine."

Suddenly, Jefferson rose to his feet and started to leave. Henry went after him, begging him to wait but Jefferson kept moving.

"Stop!" the boy yelled as he grabbed Jefferson's arm, "What's your lesson?"

Jefferson stopped and glanced down at the boy. Henry let go of the mans arm, dropping his hand at his side.

"Tactfulness", Jefferson said with a quirk of smile as he took a step back towards the exit, "Perhaps I'm supposed to learn how to be helpful without being a hindrance."

Henry looked too confused to respond as he blinked at the man. Jefferson reached-out a hand to playfully ruffle the boys hair.

"Don't worry about it, kid," he said as he pushed open the door to leave the sheriff's department, "You won't remember anyway."


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as morning came, Jefferson set-out for the sheriff's department. He rounded the corner to the detention area just as Emma walked out and nearly right into him.

"Oops!" she exclaimed as she met his eyes, "Sorry."

A white smile spread across her face and her cheeks pinkened over their almost-collision. Jefferson swallowed as he held her gaze, startled by her smile.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He blinked at the question as he stared at her smiling face. _So this is what Emma's like when she's not glowering with suspicion._

"Well," he began as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "I was actually wondering how I can help you."

The words sounded strange to his ears and Emma must have thought so too. Her smile quickly faded.

"Help me with what?" she looked a little suspicious.

Jefferson sighed.

"Mary Margaret's case. What else?"

Emma crossed her black-jacketed arms over her chest as she examined him.

"Do you have information about the case?"

Jefferson stifled a laugh at the question and looked past her.

"May we talk in here?" he asked as his hand gestured to the detention area.

"Uh, sure." Emma responded as she led the way, "What's your name?"

"Jefferson." he replied as he followed her to her desk, catching sight of Snow White in her cell.

"Mary Margaret, do you know Jefferson?" she asked as she sat behind her desk and pulled out a notepad.

"No," the brunette responded as she glanced up from the brown paper bag she was holding and smiled, "Hello."

Jefferson forced a smile at the innocent woman before turning back to Emma to tell her as much.

"So. Jefferson," Emma began as she held a pen to her notepad, "Would you like to make a statement?"

"Yes," he replied as he placed his palms on the desk and leaned towards Emma, "She's being framed."

A brown paper bag _crunched_ from behind him followed by the sound of silence as Emma stared up at him. His eyes drifted to her throat as she swallowed and he knew he had struck a chord.

"Why do you think that?" she asked as she set her pen and notepad aside.

Jefferson rolled his eyes and straightened to his full height.

"Don't play stupid," he told her with a sharp look, "You know it's true."

Emma furrowed her brow as she stared up at him.

"Do you have evidence?"

"No," he replied with a smirk, "But Mary Margaret does."

Jefferson turned around to see Snow White freeze in mid-chew. Her eyes were wide as she looked between him and Emma. Snow White swallowed her bite of sandwich.

"What."

Jefferson gave her a bored look.

"Show Emma the key," he told her, "It will only cause you more trouble if you keep it."

Snow White paled as her eyes shifted between the two of them. Her nervous glances showed her guilt and Emma noticed.

"Mary Margaret, did someone give you a key?" she asked, concerned, as she walked around her desk to the occupied cell.

The framed woman inhaled a jagged breath and her lip quivered as she looked up at her friend.

"I found it when I was making the bed." she confessed with teary eyes as she pulled the key from her coat pocket, "It opens the cell."

Emma turned on Jefferson, wearing her infamous suspicious face.

"Do you realize that your knowledge of this makes you look like an accomplice?"

Jefferson narrowed his eyes and took a step towards her.

"How stupid do you think I am that I would rat myself out?"

Emma looked unimpressed and stretched her arm through the bars of the cell so Snow White could hand over the key.

"Then, how do you explain _this_?" Emma asked him as she held-up the key with the skull on it.

Jefferson pursed his lips and averted his eyes away from her. He realized that he didn't have a lawful excuse. _I saw her use the key through my telescope just before she escaped into the forest._ Jefferson sighed his defeat as he glanced back at Emma. She nodded, knowingly.

"That's what I thought." she said as she walked passed him, leaving him to stand there and brood.

A clanking metallic sound alerted his ears just before Emma pulled his arms behind his back and slapped on the handcuffs. Jefferson groaned.

"I'm holding you for questioning." she informed him as she put him in the cell next to Snow White's.

Jefferson glared at Emma through the bars as he stood with his hands bound behind his back. Emma noticed his glare but it didn't affect her in the least. Jefferson slowly shook his head at her.

"You're the most frustrating woman I've ever met."

Emma made a face.

"Well, you must be easily frustrated, then." With that, Emma turned her back on him and walked away.

"I'll be back, Mary Margaret," she said as she headed out of the room, "I'm going to see Mr. Gold."

Jefferson sat down on his cot with his mouth set in a pout. So far, his plan to be "helpful" had all but blown up in his face. Jefferson glanced over at Snow White to find her staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Jefferson sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, ignoring the discomfort of his handcuffed arms.

"If you were Emma," he began, "What would persuade you to accept someones help without becoming suspicious of them?"

Snow White furrowed her brow as she thought about it and then she shrugged her shoulders.

"Don't do anything to raise her suspicion, I guess."

Jefferson rolled his eyes and then trained his gaze forward, glaring at some random object. Emma practically had built-in radar for things like suspiciousness, and Jefferson, unfortunately, was innately suspicious.

"Maybe," Snow White suddenly spoke, "Emma would be more accepting of someone who was..._sincere_ about helping her."

Jefferson gave her the side eye. Snow White was calling him insincere...

"Fair enough." he replied as he sat on his cot, thinking up his next move.

He was tempted to try and sleep, so the failed day would go by faster, but the handcuffs easily dissuaded him.

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* * *

.

Jefferson was ready when the clock-tower chimed and another day was set in motion. Instead of paying Emma a visit at the station, he busied himself with the task of practicing sincerity. He held the hospital door open for Leroy, with the most sincere smile he could muster, as the coffee-carrying man walked passed him. Jefferson's sympathy was equally sincere when Leroy inevitably stormed out of the hospital upon dropping all the coffee. Jefferson sincerely extended his understanding to the nurses as they whined about their lack of caffeine. He apologized to Victor, the resident doctor, when he accidentally knocked a clipboard from his hands. And Jefferson even expressed his sincerest well-wishes to a few of Storybrooke General's patients. The appreciation he received from giving just a few kind words utterly surprised him, and even more surprising was how it made him feel. He felt a sense of accomplishment that filled his chest with pride and made his smile come a little easier. Yet, when the little boy with the broken arm was wheeled passed him on a stretcher, Jefferson realized that he probably could have done more.

The afternoon rolled around and Jefferson went to Granny's where he knew he'd find Emma. He took the seat next to her at the bar, feigning nonchalance as he ordered a cup of tea. He could feel the blonde woman's eyes rise from her plate of food to rake over him curiously. Jefferson turned his head towards her and gave her an easy smile. Emma smiled back with an open friendliness that stunned him, even though he knew that she was unaware of their history.

"Haven't seen you around before." she commented casually.

A corner of Jefferson's mouth curved in amusement.

"I don't get out much," he confessed as he extended his hand towards her, "My name's Jefferson."

"Emma." she informed him with a grin as she shook his hand.

"I know," he replied just as Ruby brought him his tea, "Everyone's heard tale of Storybrooke's hero Sheriff."

"Hero." she scoffed at the word as she pushed her food around on her plate before growing silent.

Jefferson could sense that she was troubled and he knew exactly what her troubles stemmed from: Snow White's impending arraignment. He took a sip of his tea.

"It's true," he said, "It was even in the newspaper—all those you've helped. And if it's in the newspaper it _has_ to be true."

Jefferson gave her a sardonic look to which she returned a smirk.

"Don't believe everything you read," she said, "They're just stories, and the most recent ones haven't been very flattering."

_Stories. Stories? What's a story? _Jefferson's brow furrowed at the familiarity of the words.

"All stories are based on some truth," he told her as he watched her face for a reaction, "And the recent ones, you mentioned, just haven't reached their conclusion yet."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"What. Are you a writer or something?" she asked before putting a forkful of food into her mouth.

Jefferson made a face as he thought about August, the typewriter-toting conversationalist.

"No," he replied, he was not a writer, "But I've read plenty of stories." Jefferson paused as one particular book came to mind, "As a matter of fact, I know of one that might be useful to you."

Emma eyed him curiously.

"What's that," she asked, "'How to be a Sheriff for Dummies'?"

Jefferson gave her a bored look.

"No," he said flatly, "It's a criminal law book."

Jefferson had purchased it upon realizing how the land-without-magic worked and knowing Regina would certainly twist the law to her benefit. He may have thought to offer it to Emma sooner if he hadn't been so focused on helping himself.

"Mm!" Emma hummed in interest as she took a sip of her drink, "Did you study law?"

Jefferson glanced down at his cup of tea as he quietly laughed to himself. _Always trying to figure people out, aren't you Emma?_

"No," he replied but he knew he'd have to provide a better answer, "I'm a bit of a Renaissance Man—I guess you could say."

"Ah," Emma smiled knowingly, "A jack of all trades."

Jefferson shook his head.

"Mostly I've just had enough idle time to pursue my interests."

"Idle time?" she questioned.

Jefferson met her inquisitive gaze, noticing the furrow of her brow that often preceded her suspicion. A corner of his mouth curved into a smile.

"Am I being interrogated, Sheriff?" he asked as he held her hazel-green gaze.

Emma's eyes widened and her mouth fell.

"No. No, not at all," she sputtered, "I'm sorry. I'm just...curious. Anyway," she paused to take a sip of her drink, "You were saying... About the criminal law book..."

"Right." he exclaimed as if he had forgotten, "It's filled with case studies, injustices, framing conspiracies, corruption and—"

"Framing conspiracies?" she asked with interest.

Jefferson gave her an unassuming smile.

"Yes. Do you think it might be helpful to your case?"

"Sure," she replied, "We—I could use any help I can get."

Jefferson stared at her as she pensively gazed down at her plate, looking like the weight of the world was baring down on her shoulders. Her admittance of needing help tugged at something inside Jefferson's chest and he wished he had thought to help her sooner. Jefferson cleared his throat.

"Maybe I could stop by the Sheriff's Department this evening and bring it to you. Say around 7:30?"

Emma looked up from her plate to meet his gaze.

"_This_ evening?" she asked for clarification, having planned to be back at the apartment at that time.

Jefferson nodded as he stared at her with his imploringly, convincing eyes. Emma swallowed as she examined his face, and then she sighed her surrender.

"Why not," she breathed as she placed money beside her plate and then stood from her seat, "7:30 it is."

She paused then. A peculiar smile spread across her face as she stared at Jefferson. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as Emma took a step forward and leaned an elbow on the bar beside him.

"7:30?" she questioned as if it was an oddly specific time for a meeting, "What is this—are you buttering me up for a date or something?"

Jefferson gave a laugh and glanced down at his tea. When he looked up, he was surprised to find Emma slightly offended by his laugh. He frowned and turned towards her.

"I mean no offense," he assured her as his eyes raked over her with a tug of a smile, "I'm flattered by your assumption, but really, I just wanted to offer some help with your case." Jefferson was temporarily taken aback by how sincere his own words sounded. "Besides," he said as he gave Emma a playful smile, "The Sheriff Department isn't an ideal dating venue. We wouldn't exactly be alone, would we?"

Emma looked a little embarrassed, thinking of Mary Margaret.

"I'm sorry," she flustered, "I just—"

Jefferson waved her off.

"Don't worry about it," he told her with an easy smile, "I'll bring the book to you at 7:30."

Emma took-in a deep breath, smiled at him and nodded her head before hurrying out of the diner. Jefferson took-in a deep breath of his own as he watched her go, following her out the door and to her car. He turned back to his tea, smiling to himself, as the memory of kissing her invaded his thoughts. The truth was that there was too much bad history between them for anything romantic to develop. 7:30 was merely the time that Snow White escaped from her prison cell...

At 7:30 on the dot, Jefferson arrived at the Sheriff Department. He could already hear the commotion coming from the detention area as he walked inside the building.

"What were you thinking?" Emma sounded angry. "Escaping would only solidify your guilt and put a big target on me!"

Jefferson rounded the corner to catch Snow White open her mouth to respond. She froze when she saw him and Emma noticed her friends pause. The Sheriff spun on her heel to face him.

"Crap," she sputtered, "Jefferson—"

He innocently raised the book he had come to bring her, feigning his obliviousness to their situation.

"I take it this is a bad time."

Emma walked forward and took the book from his hands as she searched his eyes for trustworthiness.

"You said this book talks about framing conspiracies?"

Jefferson nodded.

Emma sighed and took a step towards him.

"Well, I think someone's trying to frame Mary Margaret."

"EMMA!" the brunette scolded her from her prison cell.

"It's okay," Emma silenced her as she looked into Jefferson's eyes, "I think I can trust him."

Jefferson swallowed at her assumption, but Emma didn't notice. She held up the key with the skull on it.

"Someone put this in her cell so she could unlock it. Do you think it's enough proof to hold up in court?"

Jefferson opened his mouth to respond, but right on cue, Henry walked up behind him, carrying his storybook.

"Hey," the boy piped as he pointed a finger at the key Emma still held, "That looks like one of my mom's."

Emma's eyes widened, knowingly, as she looked between Jefferson and Henry.

"Regina." Mary Margaret whispered her name.

Jefferson stood back as the three of them came to the conclusion that Regina was behind all of it. He gave a sigh of relief that his plan had gone well and no one had suspected him of knavery. Never-the-less, something didn't feel right. He felt a lack of accomplishment as if there was more he should have done. There were things he thought he would do differently, and for the first time, Jefferson felt himself looking forward to getting another chance to make things right.

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* * *

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**A/N: 8 chapters down, only 2 to go. Wouldn't it just be amazing if the OUAT people got Sebastian Stan's face back on the show? His face is probably too important for TV now, but there's still hope! There's ALWAYS hope!  
**

**Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Morning dawned and the sound of the chiming clock tower was mere background noise to Jefferson's ears. He dressed himself in his usual fashion and gave one last adjustment to the scarf around his neck before leaving his home.  
Jefferson's hands were stuffed in his coat pockets as he navigated his way through the town, purposefully heading towards the hospital. The plan for his day was plotted-out in his mind like a map made by a master cartographer and he planned to follow its route exactly. He arrived in the hospital's parking lot just before Leroy attempted his circus act of carrying 12 cups of coffee. Jefferson casually strolled up to the man's car, approaching him from behind, as Leroy was reaching for the cup-holders.  
"Here," Jefferson offered, "Let me help you with those."  
The bearded man with the unfailingly testy disposition straightened from leaning over his car seat and turned around. With a scowl, he gave Jefferson a quick once-over before taking full advantage of his offer.

"Sure thing, pretty boy."

Jefferson raised his eyebrows at the nickname as Leroy placed a cup-holder in both of his hands, a total of 8 cups of coffee. Jefferson laughed his disbelief as he stared down at his burden.  
"Can't the hospital afford a coffee machine?"  
Leroy _humphed _and then slammed his car door shut as he carried the remaining cup-holder.

"The hospital can afford a lot of things," he grumbled, "Like giving the _janitor_ a raise, but that doesn't mean they shell-out the money."

Jefferson smirked as he walked beside him through the parking lot, headed for the hospital's entrance.

"They should show a little more appreciation," Jefferson commented, "After all, you could have easily spit in their cups if you wanted to."

Leroy barked-out a laugh and moved forward to hold open the door. He gave Jefferson a sly look as he walked passed him into the hospital.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" he joked as they approached the nurses station.

Upon seeing them, the nurses swarmed around the two coffee bringers like a swarm of bees, coddling them with compliments and affectionate shoulder pats. One of the nurses even pressed a kiss to Leroy's large forehead as she helped herself to one of the cups. Jefferson smiled in amusement as the man with the perpetual scowl actually blushed. Leroy humbly waved the nurses away as if the coffee-run had been no trouble. When the two of them were left empty handed, Leroy turned to Jefferson and stuck-out his hand.

"Thanks, pretty boy."

Jefferson rolled his eyes as he shook his hand and plainly stated, "My name's Jefferson."

"I'm Leroy," he introduced himself before throwing a thumb towards the coffee-drinking nurses, "Half of those cups would probably be on the floor if it wasn't for you."

_All of them, actually. _Jefferson gave the man a small smile.

"Glad I could help," he replied before taking a step backwards towards the exit, "Looks like you were finally shown some appreciation."

Jefferson looked pointedly at the red lipstick on Leroy's forehead. The bearded man scowled and furrowed his brow as he rubbed his hand across it. When he saw the red on his fingertips his face turned equally as red. Jefferson snorted-out a laugh, and then spun on his heel for the exit. He left the hospital with the intent of going back home. His hands were no longer burdened with coffee and he had a book to retrieve.

As soon as the kids were released for recess, Jefferson was there. He sat on a bench across the street, thumbing through his criminal law book as he waited to be useful. He could time the moment exactly—he didn't even need to glance up from his book. At that very moment, the little boy was way-up a tree, and just about to reach above his head to grab a flimsy limb. Jefferson placed his book down on the bench and darted across the street. With a _crack, _the limb broke under the boys weight and he fell right into Jefferson's out-stretched arms. Jefferson huffed-out a laugh, surprised by the boy's weight as he fell heavy against him. It had been so long since he'd held a child that the emptiness left behind made him forget how it felt. The little boy looked up at him with wide eyes as he bashfully bit down on his lip. Jefferson sat him down on his feet as a crowd of students began to surround him.

"Are you alright?" he asked the little boy.

The boy nodded as he stared down at his feet, and then, he ran off.

"Jacob!" a gray-haired teacher scolded him as he disappeared into a crowd, "Jacob, come back here!"

The teacher gave a hopeless sigh before looking up at Jefferson with a thankful smile.

"That's the second time he's pulled this," she informed him, "Last time, he spent two days in the hospital!"

Jefferson opened his mouth to respond but was cut-off by another.

"You saved him!" Henry cheered, which set-off a chain reaction of cheers and swarming children.

"I saw you sitting on the bench," a familiar voice began, and for just a moment, Jefferson's world stopped. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and he swallowed as he met his daughters gaze. "You can run really fast!" she marveled with a smile that was just for him.

Jefferson's eyes sparkled with a combination of wetness and joy. He momentarily forgot to breath, but he quickly covered it with a laugh.

"I've had a lot of practice," he admitted as he grinned at his daughter, "From playing lots of hide-n-seek."

Grace's brown eyes brightened.

"I'm a good seeker!" she told him.

Jefferson's smile turned sad at the memory and he swallowed. _You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace._

"I bet there's none better." he replied with a proud smile as a bell, signaling the end of recess, tolled.

Grace smiled up at him with a grin, so big, that Jefferson thought he could use it to fill up the emptiness left in her absence. He stood and watched as she ran off with the rest of the children until not a child was left in sight. Jefferson took-in a deep breath like he had been holding it the entire time and he wiped a thumb across his eye.

"The book!" he had to remind himself before he completely forgot its purpose.

Jefferson walked across the street and picked it up from the bench. He held the book in his hand as he spared one last glance to the spot where he had spoken to his daughter. With a sigh, Jefferson walked off down the street, headed for the diner.

Emma's usual stool was empty as Jefferson walked up to the bar, but he knew it was only because she wasn't due to come in yet. He took the stool beside hers and placed his book on the counter as Ruby approached him.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked with a flirtatious grin, "Something hot?"

Jefferson bit back a laugh as he smiled at the waitress.

"Tea," he replied with a nod, "Thank you."

"Coming right up." Ruby smiled before turning away.

Jefferson opened the book to the page where he had left off, and then he started reading. He kept himself deeply engrossed in the book even as Ruby brought him his tea. He didn't even bother to glance up until Emma walked to the bar beside him. Jefferson smiled at her politely as she hesitated to sit down.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked as she gestured to her usual stool.

"Not at all." he replied as he examined her, "Hey, you're the sheriff, aren't you?"

Emma sighed, reluctantly, at the question and forced a smile.

"Yeah," she replied as she sat down next him, "But it's Emma."

"I'm Jefferson." he smiled as he offered her his hand.

Emma shook his hand, and then shot a glance at his book.

"Hey, Emma." Ruby greeted, distracting her, "What can I get for you?"

Jefferson went back to reading his book as the waitress took Emma's order. He paid them no attention as he flipped through it's pages, getting lost in the words once more.

"You remind me of my kid." Emma commented casually and Jefferson raised his head to meet her gaze. Emma pointed a finger at his book. "Henry always reads his storybook in here."

Jefferson smiled.

"A storybook?" he gave a little laugh, "That sounds a lot more entertaining than _this_."

"Really?" Emma questioned with a curious smile, "You sure seem interested in it, to me."

Jefferson shrugged.

"I'm more like your son, actually," he confessed, "I prefer fiction to books on criminal law, any day."

"Oh, are you studying?"

Jefferson shook his head as he looked at her.

"No. Honestly," he gave a sigh and smiled sheepishly, "I've been following Mary Margaret's case—I think we all have," he said as he gestured around the room, "Small town. Big case. So, I've been doing some research on conspiratorial crime. I think she's innocent."

Ruby placed Emma's plate of food in front of her, temporarily distracting her from their conversation. Emma gave her thanks and the waitress walked away before she turned her attention back to Jefferson. He had gone back to reading his book, not wanting to interrupt her meal. Of course, he could feel Emma's eyes on him as he stared down at his book, and it was precisely what he was hoping for. Emma leaned closer as she curiously glanced over his shoulder.

"'False Evidence and False Testimony'," Emma read the subtitle from the page while he was looking at it.

A corner of Jefferson's mouth curved-up into a smirk before he glanced at her.

"Do you read over your sons shoulder, too?"

Emma flashed a white smile.

"Only if he's forcing me," she admitted, "Henry's always trying to convert me to...fairytale-ism. But I'm more interested in this, actually." she tapped a finger to his book, "Something real."

Jefferson frowned at her last two words and glanced down at the opened page, trying to hide his grimace. There was no use discussing "what's real" and "what's not real" with a skeptic. Jefferson closed the book and pushed it across the bar towards her.

"Keep it," he said with a smile, "It'll probably be more useful to you anyway."

"Oh no, I couldn't. You don't have—"

"I insist." he said as he stared into her hazel-green eyes with conviction, and that silenced her.

Emma gave him a small smile before she glanced down at the book, running her finger tips over the cover.

"Thank you." she replied.

Jefferson nodded and took a long drink from his cup, emptying it. Emma watched him with curious eyes and a protest on her lips as he stood to his feet.

"You're leaving?"

Jefferson smirked as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled-out a few dollars to set on the bar.

"I finished my tea," he reasoned as he meet her gaze, "It was nice meeting you Emma. I hope you find the book to be helpful."

"Thanks," she smiled, "It was nice meeting you too, Jefferson."

Emma turned back to her plate and he stared at her for a moment, caught-off-guard by the sound of his name from her lips. There was a sincerity to it that had never been there before. Mostly, Emma had always spoken his name with annoyance or shock, but not this time. Jefferson sighed contentedly as he turned to leave, but a thought halted him.

"Oh, and Emma," he began, catching her attention, "If you ever need help or want to brainstorm over crime and due process—look me up. "

Emma flashed a white smile and promised, "I will."

Jefferson nodded his goodbyes, and then left the diner. He planned to hold Emma to her word, but in the meantime, he went home. Jefferson unrolled his map on top of the piano as he studied the layout of Storybrooke, glancing over the marks he had mapped-out with his own hands. He took special note of the distances between notable landmarks and he converted them into minutes in his head. He decided that the timeline between Mary Margaret hitting her head and Emma searching for her was dangerously close, but he was resolved to try and unite them.

Once night had fallen and the cold, humid air allowed a fog to sweep across the town, Jefferson set out to take a familiar stroll down a dark, winding road. It was like déjà vu when he turned to see the headlights and knew that the little yellow bug was headed straight for him. He tumbled off the side of the road as the car swerved out of the way—a near miss. The sound of the car screeching to a halt echoed through the quiet woods.

"I'm so sorry!" Emma gasped as she raced towards him, and then faltered, "Jefferson—"

He huffed-out a laugh of disbelief as walked up the steep slope towards her.

"Emma." he greeted.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she took his arm, "I didn't see you."

"I'm fine," he assured her with a smile as he stood on level ground, "I'm not used to sharing the road with cars so late. What brings you out here in the middle of the night?"

Emma blinked at the question.

"Uh, nothing to worry about," she fumbled, "I'm just...looking for a lost dog."

Jefferson examined her with an incredulous look.

"Funny," he said with a tilt of his head, "You don't strike me as dog person."

Emma gave a nervous laugh and her eyes darted towards the forest, seeking-out something through the darkness of the trees. Her expression fell, and Jefferson noticed.

"Emma," he started as he stepped towards her, "I meant what I said back in the diner—about you ever needing help..."

Emma swallowed and stared up at him as a silent war went on in her head. With a sigh, she averted her eyes to the ground, and confessed, "It's Mary Margaret."

Jefferson furrowed his brow and placed his hands on Emma's shoulders, willing her to look at him.

"What about her?"

Emma took-in a deep breath as she met his gaze.

"She escaped! Her arraignment's tomorrow and if she's not there—"

"She's a fugitive." Jefferson finished as he dropped his hands from her shoulders, and then marched towards her car, "Come on, let's go!"

"Where?" Emma gasped as she rounded her car to the drivers side and got behind the wheel.

"When did she escape?" he asked as he sat in the passenger seat beside her.

Emma shrugged as she started the car and drove froward.

"About an hour ago, maybe."

"Good," Jefferson said, "That means she hasn't made it from the Sheriff's Department across this road yet."

Emma shot him a disbelieving look and he noticed it. Jefferson gave a humble smile.

"I'm a bit of an amateur cartographer," he explained himself, "Mapping the area is a hobby."

Emma nodded her head, finding no falsity in his words that she could argue as she drove down the dark, foggy road.

"Just a little further up ahead," he told her, "More than likely, she'll have stayed on a straight path. The Sheriff's Department is about 3 miles across the forest from this point. Pull over to your left."

Emma listened to him, having no better hunches to go on. They abandoned the car at the side of the road and started their trek through the dark forest.

"This is impossible," Emma uttered her doubt, "There's too much ground to cover and there's no telling which direction she went in!"

Jefferson stayed silent as he moved forward, making sure to keep a safe distance from the invisible border that laid unmarked in the forest.

"MARY MARGARET!" Emma started shouting her name. "MARY MAR—"

"SHHHHH!" Jefferson silenced her as the trickling sound of a running stream alerted his ears to their nearness.

Suddenly, a twig snapped somewhere up ahead and Jefferson ran towards it. Mary Margaret dashed-out from behind a tree, headed straight for the slippery rocks that would send her across the border and unconscious on the ground. Jefferson leaped over the narrow stream and lunged forward to catch her in his arms.

"No!" she cried as she fought against his grasp.

"It's okay," he tried to sooth her, "We're here to help you!"

With a sob, the escapee stilled in his arms and her head fell against his chest, exhausted from running.

"Mary Margaret!" Emma said breathlessly as she sprinted to their side. The woman broke free from Jefferson's hold to embrace her friend.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into Emma's shoulder, "I found a key in my cell and I told myself it was the only way I could get out of this mess."

Emma glanced at Jefferson from over the top of the brunette's head.

"Someone slipped her a key."

Jefferson gave a heavy sigh.

"Sounds like a setup."

Emma nodded in agreement. Together, the three of them navigated their way to the car, and Jefferson insisted on seeing them back to the Sheriff's Department. He helped Mary Margaret out of the passenger seat as they reached their destination, and she thanked him. Jefferson gave her a sympathetic smile before Emma led her back inside, having no choice but to return her to her prison cell. He watched them disappear through the doors as he gave a sigh of relief, and then, without another thought, he shoved his hands inside his coat pockets and turned away.

"Wait!" Emma called-out and Jefferson glanced over his shoulder to see her exiting the station.

She threw a thumb behind herself, "Mr. Gold needed a moment to speak alone with Mary Margaret."

"Oh." Jefferson smiled politely as he turned to face her.

Emma stepped towards him a little awkwardly before taking in a deep breath.

"Thank you," she said as she stared-up into his eyes, "I don't know what I would have done without your help."

Jefferson gave a laugh and shrugged it off.

"It's nothing," he said with a smile, "I'm glad we found her."

Emma stared up at him for a moment longer before she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jefferson laughed and patted her back before Emma pulled away.

"Really, really, thank you." she exclaimed with earnest eyes.

Jefferson nodded as the corners of his mouth curved-up in amusement.

"You're welcome," he said before taking a step backwards, "Good night, Emma."

"Hey!" she called after him, "Let me drive you."

Jefferson paused and glanced up towards the night sky, noticing that the fog had started to clear. He gave a sigh before meeting her expectant gaze.

"Thank you, but no." he declined with a shake of his head, "I'm in the mood for a walk, anyway. Besides," he said as he glanced up, spotting a few stars in the sky, "It's shaping-up to be a good night for it."

Emma smiled and nodded her acceptance before waving goodbye. Jefferson walked-off down the street, feeling a kind of peace that he hadn't felt for an immeasurable amount of time. Of all he had accomplished that day, none of it filled him with a sense of success quite like talking to his daughter had. He smiled to himself as he remembered her bright grin and it gave him hope. Jefferson walked home with the piece of mind that the day had wrapped-up perfectly, like a strategically placed scarf around his neck.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Well, readers, this is the longest chapter of the story with over 4600 words, but it's also the last chapter! Thanks so much for all the follows, favs, and reviews! I had to get this story out of my head—least it exploded—and the feedback always makes the process more enjoyable. Happy reading, guys!**

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Jefferson awoke in his bed as the clock tower chimed in the distance like his own personal serenade. The chimes no longer filled him with dread when they sung him awake. He counted them in his head. _…Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. NINE?_

Jefferson grabbed the alarm clock from his night stand and blinked as he stared at its face, trying to clear the mirage that deluded his vision into seeing "9 AM". Jefferson stood to his feet and carelessly tossed the alarm clock over his shoulder, letting it fall on to his bed. He flew down the staircase to the first floor and peered through the lens of his telescope. The parking lot of the Sheriff Department was filled with an unusual number of cars. Jefferson focused the telescope on the detention area and saw Emma leading Mary Margaret through a small crowd of people as she escorted her to her cell.

_She made it to her Arraignment Day!_ A small smile tugged at his mouth and he stepped away from his telescope.

A new tomorrow had finally come! At last, his loop had been broken! Jefferson felt an itching need to tell someone his good news, but there was only one person who wouldn't think he was crazy for telling it...

Once the final school bell rang and he caught sight of Grace wearing a pink and white scarf, Jefferson went to the diner. He found Henry there, sitting on a stool with his book splayed atop the bar. Jefferson smiled at the familiar sight before he took the seat next to him. Henry looked up.

"Hey!" he said with a grin, "You're the guy who saved that boy from falling yesterday."

Jefferson gave a shrug.

"I was just in the right place at the right time."

Henry continued to stare up at him with genuine awe.

"You're a hero," he enthused just before glancing down at the pages in front of him, "Like the prince in my book."

Jefferson rolled his eyes.

"No, not a prince," he disagreed, "I'm more of a—"

His expression fell as the words "Mad Hatter" came to his own mind as if it were a truth he was finally accepting. Jefferson remembered then that he hadn't told Emma or Henry about who he really was. It all might as well have been a dream. Now, he was back to square one—stuck in a large house, filled with so many things he couldn't share with his daughter, and no one but Regina and Rumpelstiltskin even knew about it.

"More of a _what_?" Henry interrupted his thoughts.

Jefferson stared down at the boy whose head was over-filled with the secret lives of others. He didn't want to be another burden on his mind. Yet, the thought of Emma not knowing his story made him shift uncomfortably on his seat.

"Nevermind." he said as he shot a glance at the book before meeting Henry's gaze, "I'm going to ask a favor of you."

The boy's eyebrows knitted together, curiously.

"Uh, okay."

Jefferson gave a small smile and then stood to his feet.

"Will you read the story of the Mad Hatter with Emma?"

Henry screwed up his expression.

"Wh—"

"Kid." Jefferson smirked. "Just promise that you will."

Henry merely blinked as he gazed up at Jefferson, staring at him for a moment long enough that it felt like several minutes had ticked by.

"I promise." the boy finally said.

Jefferson smiled at him and then took a step back.

"Thank you, Henry."

He turned on his heel and headed for the exit before the curious boy could question him. It was a small relief to know that, at least, Emma would know the story of how the Evil Queen had separated a father from his daughter—even if she wouldn't know that it was _his_ story. As he walked away from the diner, Jefferson resigned himself to his solitude. He believed Emma could break the curse. He had once seen her start to believe—a memory that, now, seemed as fantastical as a dream, but he knew she would believe again. Jefferson decided to wait and watch. It was what he had done for the past 28 years and it was what he would do until the curse was finally broken.

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And so he waited, until one morning, while watching his daughter, his attention was provoked. Jefferson spotted a playing card attached to his Grace's bicycle—a playing card with the White Rabbit on it. Jefferson pulled it off the bike like it was a tack he was removing from the bottom of his shoe. His expression darkened into a forbidding scowl.

"Regina." he practically growled her name.

He wasted no time on courtesies like knocking on her door or accepting her offered drink. Jefferson dropped the playing card into the liquor-filled glass, ignoring her proposal. Unfortunately, Regina brought forth his hat, confessed she had magic and made grand promises to reunite him with his daughter. Her promise was a game-changer and Jefferson was just about to accept until she uttered an afterthought.

"Oh!" she began and Jefferson turned.

"_After_," she exaggerated the word to make sure he knew that her demands would be met first. "After we take care of Ms. Swan."

Jefferson turned his head to look at her and he averted his eyes just as quickly. _Take care of Ms. Swan._ Her words were a threat and Jefferson's conscience rebuked the idea of bringing harm to Emma.

"Where?" he asked.

Regina smiled, pleased with herself.

"The cemetery."

His jaw tightened at the word. "When?"

"Right. Now."

Regina walked towards his hat box and Jefferson took an imposing step towards her, blocking her path.

"Make it noon," he said, "And I will be there."

Regina tilted her head curiously, and a cruel smile twitched at her lips.

"What—am I keeping you from your daily telescope routine?"

Jefferson narrowed his eyes and took a menacing step closer.

"I'd rather not to be confined in a car with you," he said as he glared at her, "I will drive myself."

"Fine." she fumed, looking slightly offended, "Be there at noon and not a minute later."

Jefferson shouldered passed her and walked out of her house. His teeth ground together at the thought of making another deal with Regina. He refused to be fooled by her this time. He had learned through Mary Margaret's false-trial that Regina was up to her same old tricks and schemes. With the time quickly drawing closer to noon, Jefferson searched the small town for Emma. If Regina was planning something foul, Jefferson thought the sheriff should be the first to know about it.

He spotted her little yellow bug just as it headed towards Granny's and he followed after her in his own car, parking right along side her with the engine still running.

"Emma!" he called-out her name just as soon as she opened her car door.

She froze in her seat as she glanced up at the man who was rounding his car towards her. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"Jefferson." Emma mused as her face brightened with a smile, "I haven't seen you since—"

"No time for chit-chat," he said, all-business, as he moved to stand before her, "Regina's trying to use me to plot against you. I am to meet her in the cemetery in just a moment. You should follow along and take surveillance."

"WHAT?" Emma protested as she tried to stand from her car but found that Jefferson's nearness made it impossible, "Why would she use _you_ to plot against me?"

Jefferson smirked at the question as he thought of his hat.

"Well, Emma, there's only one way to find out."

Jefferson shot her a knowing glance as he walked back around to his car. Emma scowled and sighed her exasperation. She was so very done with Storybrooke. Jefferson knew that. He had seen her pack her car with her duffle bags and head out of town with Henry, but he was pleased to see that she had returned.

"The choice is yours." he said before he sunk down into his car and reversed out of the diner's parking lot.

From what he knew of Emma's curiosity, he was certain that she would follow after him, and he trusted her to be discrete. After all, Emma could be pretty tricky herself…

"You're late." Regina scolded him as he crossed the cemetery towards her with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets

Jefferson gave a careless shrug and challenged her with a silent glare as he stopped just a foot away.

"Carry this." she demanded as she thrust his hat towards him, "And follow me."

Jefferson took his hat and glanced back over his shoulder before he followed Regina through the door of a mausoleum. A corner of his mouth curved up as he caught a glimpse of blonde peeping around a tree. He descended into darkness then, following Regina down a secret stairwell that was hidden beneath her father's tomb.

"Watch your step," she warned him as he descended the stairs behind her.

"What is this place?"

"Where I've kept the last bit of my magic," she replied as she took the last step down and turned a corner into a large tomb-like room, "The only magic in this world is in the things I brought with me."

Jefferson pursed his lips as he glanced around at the room, unimpressed. He fixed Regina with an equally unimpressed look before placing his hat on the floor. He took a step back as they both stared at the hat, expectantly, and Jefferson thought he could hear the telltale sounds of Emma's quiet footsteps. The hat didn't move.

"It's not spinning. It's not working." he stated as he gestured to the useless hat.

"It needs to absorb the _magic_ that's here." Regina replied and Jefferson mused over Emma's reaction upon hearing the word "magic". Regina crossed the room towards the stone wall covered with open nooks. The sound of her clicking heels helped to drown-out Emma's quiet approach. "I have some things left," Regina confessed as she carried a small box towards the hat, "A few trinkets."

Jefferson watched as she dumped the contents of the box into his hat, clenching his fists in anticipation, but the hat gave no response. Jefferson shot Regina a disparaging look as he bent down to pick up his useless hat.

"It's not enough. You need something that still works."

Regina reached her hand into her coat pocket and pulled-out a ring. It glowed with magic and produced an image at its center—a face of man—and Jefferson hoped that Emma was seeing it.

"Who's that?" he asked as Regina stared longingly at the ring.

Her expression contorted with pain as she replied, "Someone long gone."

Jefferson didn't care.

"Well, whatever or whoever it is, it still has magical properties," he said as he held his hat towards her, beckoningly, "Give me that, and let me see what I can do with it.

Reluctance crossed Regina's face and she clenched the ring tightly in her fist. Jefferson forced himself not to be affected by the tears he saw in her eyes.

"If you want your son back," he reasoned, "if you want your revenge, give it to me."

Regina stared at him for a moment before gesturing for him to place the hat down on the floor. Jefferson easily obliged and then took a step back as he impatiently waited for her to make a decision. With one last wistful look at the ring, Regina dropped it into the hat. A faint purple glow emitted from the hat, whipping around it like a small whirlwind as it spun slowly on the floor, and Jefferson hoped that Emma saw it—no matter how small the display of magic.

"What's wrong?" Regina frowned as she stared at the hat, "Why isn't it opening a portal?"

Jefferson crouched down to the floor and stopped the hat from spinning.

"The magic – it's not enough," he said, "We can't go anywhere."

"Then you failed." Regina lamented, but Jefferson was no where near finished putting on a show for Emma.

"Maybe not," he silenced Regina with a stern look, "There's enough magic to touch the other side, just not to get us there. There might be enough to reach through and retrieve something."

Regina was in awe of his information and she sunk low to the ground, intrigued, as she stared at him.

"I can bring something back?"

Jefferson glanced at her.

"Is there an object that can help you? Perhaps, I can open it enough and reach through and grab it," he suggested, "It would have to be small. Something that you can take with your hand. Is there anything like that that can help you?"

A thoughtful smile tugged at Regina's lips.

"Yes," she replied, "Yes, I believe there is."

"Then you need to direct me to the time and place where this object exists." Jefferson stated as he handed her his hat.

"How?" she asked as she took the hat between her hands.

"Think about it," he replied as he stared at it, "Guide the hat."

Regina gave a nod and closed her eyes as she thought for a moment. Jefferson glanced at her cautiously as he considered looking over his shoulder in-search of Emma. But he didn't need to. He could feel her familiar presence, peering behind the arched entryway, just as he could feel the presence of magic. A satisfied smile formed of Regina's face and she sat the hat back on the floor. The two of them stepped back as the hat resumed its spinning, striking-up a whirlwind that was powerful enough to blow at the their clothes. Regina gave a joyful laugh as the spinning hat whirled purple magic around the room.

"Excellent!" Jefferson spoke over the noisy whirlwind, "It appears to be working. Now, what is it we're after?"

Regina looked at him as a grin formed on her face and she simply replied: "An apple."

No sooner had she spoken the words that the hat slowed its spinning and the purple mist was sucked back inside like water going down the drain. The hat stopped. The room fell quiet and an apple flew up from the inside of the hat as if someone had thrown it into the air. Jefferson caught it in his fist and Regina stared in awe. Jefferson gave her a curious look before examining the seemingly innocent apple he held in his hand.

"Is this it?" he asked.

"Yes," Regina breathed the word as she reached out to take it from him, "Yes it is."

She grinned as she held the apple in her hand like some precious, priceless object and Jefferson looked at her cautiously.

"And my daughter?" he asked, "My Grace?"

"First things first," she said before glancing away from the apple to look at him, "The deal's not done. Not until I solve the next conundrum." Jefferson angrily clenched his jaw as Regina stared thoughtfully at her apple, "How to get the savior to taste my forbidden fruit—"

The familiar _click_ of a gun startled her and Jefferson turned to see Emma appear from behind the arched entryway. He smiled as she pointed her gun at Regina.

"I'm not tasting anything!" Emma declared as her chest heaved with her catched breath and her wide eyes raked over the two of them.

"Ms. Swan!" Regina gasped with genuine surprise before she turned a menacing look on Jefferson, "_You_! You brought her here?"

Jefferson couldn't stop his smile from turning into a grin.

Regina turned to Emma and threw a pointed finger at Jefferson that could have turned him into a frog if she had magic.

"Whatever this—this _madman_—told you, it isn't true. It was just the ramblings of a desperate—"

"Save it, Regina!" Emma snapped at her as she held her gun steady, "I heard everything!" Her eyes drifted to the hat and they lingered there. "I saw everything."

Emma's gaze rose to meet Jefferson's and he recognized the wide look in her eyes. It was the same look she had the last time she had started to believe. Her eyes quickly averted to the end of her gun and at the woman it was pointed at.

"Let me guess," she said as she looked at the piece of fruit that Regina was holding, "A poisoned apple?"

Something dark flashed in Regina's eyes and her mouth twisted into a scowl.

"_Poisoned_?" she spit the word like venom from her mouth, "If I wanted to poison you, Ms. Swan, I would have done so already. But _this_," Regina held up the apple as she gazed at it with pride, "This would have caused you to fall into an eternal sleep, while everyone else only _thought_ you were dead."

Regina gave a wicked smile as she turned her wrist to show Emma the bite that had been taken out of the apple.

"This was the very morsel Snow White had tasted," she confessed as her eyes gleamed at Emma, "How poetic it would have been for her daughter to partake of the same fruit."

Emma swallowed at her words. To her skeptical ears, they sounded so strange, but Jefferson could see she believed them. He could see it in the steadiness of her hand as she held the gun, in the tightness of her jaw, and in the fury that was suddenly burning in her eyes as she glared at Regina.

"No one will be partaking of that apple." Emma said with such conviction that Regina frowned, "Roll it over."

Regina's eyes darted towards Jefferson before focusing on Emma's gun. She held her chin high in that self-righteous way of hers and then bent down to roll the apple across the floor. The tainted fruit rolled to a stop beside Emma's boot and she stared down at it while her gun remained pointed at Regina.

"And after I bite the apple—then what?" Emma asked as she looked up, "How could you look Henry in the eyes and lie to him about what you did to me? How could you live with yourself for lying to him?"

Regina's pride faltered at the mention of Henry and her lip quivered with emotion.

"Because!" she spouted as she clenched her fists at her sides, "As long as you're alive, Henry will never be mine!"

Emma's brow creased at her words and something like pity crossed her face.

"Well, Regina," Emma began as she lowered her gun and glanced down at the apple, "We're just going to have to learn to share," she said as she lifted a leg until the heel of her boot hovered just over the apple, "Because I'm not going anywhere!"

She stomped the apple with her boot, crushing it into the floor and a shock wave reverberated from the impact. It hit Regina and Jefferson like a blast of air that caused them to stumble back as the shock wave radiated-out through the rest of the town.

"What was that?" Emma gasped.

A smirk tugged at Jefferson's mouth as he saw the fear in Regina's eyes.

"It's the curse," he said as he smiled at Emma, "It seems you just broke it."

"No!" Regina wailed as she marched-up to Emma with clenched fists and utter defeat in her eyes.

Emma said nothing as the other woman stood before her, holding her gaze and silently cursing her. Emma had already won—regardless of whether or not she had been trying. Regina growled her frustration, and then flew from the room, ascending the stairway in a flurry of clicking heels. Emma let-out a long sigh as if she had been holding her breath and then she glanced around the room.

"What now?" she asked as her eyes stopped on Jefferson.

He shrugged and stepped forward to retrieve his hat from the floor.

"Everyone will have their memories back, now." he said as he held his hat between his hands.

Emma looked at him curiously.

"You must have already had yours," she guessed, "How?"

Jefferson gave a laugh and rubbed a frustrated hand down his face.

"It's a long story," he said as he moved towards the stairs, "One I'd rather not waste anymore time in telling."

Emma examined the hat in his hand as she followed him to the stairs.

"I think I already know your story, Jefferson." Emma admitted and his steps came to a halt, "My kid, Henry, told me a story about a man who was separated from his daughter—a man who became the Mad Hatter."

Jefferson glanced over his shoulder to see her.

"I thought it was only a story," Emma shrugged, "I thought they were all just a bunch of stories."

Jefferson smiled at her.

"I know," he said, "But now you know they're true."

He turned his back to her then and walked up the stairs and out of the mausoleum. Jefferson stopped once he made his way back out into the sunlight and Emma stepped up beside him.

"Well," she began and they looked at one another, "I guess you have a daughter to find."

Jefferson smiled a wistful smile and he gave nod.

"I do," he agreed, "And I imagine there will be a family reunion in your future, too."

Emma's expression turned panicked at the mention of a "family reunion" and Jefferson laughed under his breath.

"Relax, Emma," he said as he met her hazel-green gaze, "Family is a good thing. It's better than being alone. Trust me on that."

And as Emma looked at him, she knew from her own lonely past just how true his words were. She thought back to Jefferson's story and the illustrations she had seen in Henry's book, and she realized how lonely his past must have been, too.

"Go." she ordered him and then flashed a white smile, "Go find your daughter."

Jefferson regarded her for a moment before he nodded at her request and said, "Thank you."

The words represented more than just his appreciation of her understanding and more than just his gratitude that she had broken the curse. In an indirect way—that not even Emma was remotely aware of—she had taught him to be a better man. Trial and error, from having relived the same day for so long, had forced him to come to grips with reality. Emma had taught Jefferson about reality, about "The Real World". _A_ real world. And he would be reuniting with his daughter—not as a man who had drugged, kidnapped and pointed a gun at a woman, but as a man who was above such actions—a better man, a saner man. Emma nodded, accepting his "thank you", and then the pair went their separate ways. Emma drove off to find her family and Jefferson drove off to find his…

The sidewalks were filled with people trying to catch-up with the loved ones they had forgotten for 28 years. Jefferson kept a lookout as he drove through the town, searching for Grace. He feared he'd have to find her with her other family, her other father, and Jefferson wasn't looking forward to dealing with that particular drawback. His heart about leaped into his throat as he drove towards the school and spotted her sitting on the bench across the street, all alone. Jefferson slammed on his brakes and parked in the middle of the road, without any care to the laws he might be disrupting. He climbed out of his car and sprinted across the street until he was standing on the same side as his daughter. Grace rose to her feet and a grin spread across her face as she recognized him.

"Papa!" she cried before running towards him.

Jefferson went down on one knee so he could catch her in his arms. The air had already left his lungs upon hearing her call his name, but when she collided into him, he could breathe again.

"I thought I might find you here." she confessed as she buried her head into his shoulder.

Jefferson closed his eyes tight, trapping the tears from falling as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

"It's that bloodhound nose of yours," he replied before gently pushing her back so he could see her face, "There's no better seeker."

Grace grinned and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she had missed him just as much as he had missed her. Jefferson stood to his feet—even as his daughter practically dangled from around his neck—and he carried her towards the bench she had been sitting on.

"The other children are still talking about it, Papa," she said as she leaned back to see him, "How you saved the boy who fell out of the tree."

Jefferson gave her a small smile as he put her back on her feet, and then sat down on the bench. Grace sat down beside him as she smiled up at him, her brown eyes dancing over his face as if she were trying to imprint him to memory. Jefferson knew this because he was doing the same thing—so afraid that their moment together was only temporary.

"Now I can tell them that it was _my_ Papa who saved the boy."

Jefferson gave a nervous laugh, and then watched as Grace's smile turned to a frown. Jefferson frowned in-turn and pressed his hand to her cheek.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked.

Grace looked down at her feet

"I didn't recognize you," she confessed, "I had forgotten who you were, but _you_ recognized me."

Jefferson swallowed at the guilt he saw on her face and it pained him.

"Come here," he said as he scooped her up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, "That wasn't your fault, Grace. It was just the curse. I was cursed to remember and you were cursed to forget."

Grace pulled away and she looked up at him with a worried expression.

"You mean—you remembered this _whole_ time?"

Jefferson gave her a sympathetic smile as he nodded. Grace frowned and threw her arms around his neck with a grip that nearly choked him.

"Oh, Papa." she cried into his shoulder, "That must have been terrible."

Jefferson took-in a deep breath as a contented smile curved at his mouth. He carefully pried his daughters arms loose from around his neck so he could see her brown eyes.

"None of it matters now." he said as he held her gaze, "We have each other and that's all we need."

Grace smiled at his words and nodded in agreement.

"_And_ ice cream." she added as an afterthought and Jefferson laughed.

"Well then, my dear Grace," he said as he lifted her off his lap and sat her down on her feet, "Why don't we go have some?"

Grace grinned up at him and reached-out for his hand as he stood to his feet. Jefferson took her little hand in his and they walked-off together to enjoy one of the benefits of the new world that their old world hadn't offered: Ice cream. _Grace likes ice cream. _It was the first of many new things that Jefferson would learn about his daughter—about _Paige_. And they would have ice cream and tea parties and embellished bedtime stories about the Mad Hatter in Wonderland. And Jefferson would use his time spent reliving the same day to teach his daughter about the importance of being heedful. Because not all curses were meant to be harmful, some were meant to teach lessons. And so, Jefferson and Grace resumed their life together in the Land Without Magic, taking full advantage of the second chance they had been given and remembering that just being together was simply enough.


End file.
